Dib's Restless Dreams
by TheFifthEye
Summary: Dib goes to Silent Hill in search of proof of the paranormal, but finds himself in a nightmarish battle for his life. Can he survive, or will he be consumed by the darkness? Silent Hill and Invader Zim Crossover. No Silent Hill knowledge needed.
1. I, i: Falling asleap in the Dark

_A/N: This is a crossover __fic__ of Invader Zim and Silent Hill. Invader Zim is the product of __Jhonen__ Vasquez and Nickelodeon. Silent Hill is the product of Konami. __This is the only time I will state this. _

_This is the first story I've written that I'm really trying to __make good__; so constructive criticism is EXTREAMLY APPRECIATED.__ Other than that, I'm pretty indifferent about reviews and whatnot; story hits are _my_ lifeblood. Oh, and I also take your ideas and opinions seriously, so if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear '__em._

_This is also the first story in my (soon to be) collection of Silent Hill crossovers. _

_**About the Story:**__ I'm listing this under Invader Zim and not Silent Hill because all you really need to kn__ow is__ IZ, I'll explain Silent Hill as the story progresses. So, in summary: __**YOU DON'T NEED TO KNOW SILENT HILL TO UNDERSTAND THIS**__. I think. Other than that, this story is __greatly__ influenced by the second game, aptly named Silent Hill 2. So it will focus heavily on the reasons behind the monsters and locale, and not so much on the killing of said monsters. I am using an OC __as the __god for Silent Hill, and there __are__ some othe__r OCs, mostly as cannon fodder._

_I've taken you time long enough, so without further adieu, I present to you __the first (short) chapter of __"__Dib's__ Restless Dreams"_

* * *

"In my restless dreams, I see that town. Silent Hill. I've always wanted to go there, always have but never did." 

Dib put his notebook down with a smile; profound yet creepy was the feel he was going for in his notes. And he felt that he had achieved that quite nicely in his above statement. Now he just had to keep doing that all through his expedition to the little town of Silent Hill.

It had taken him months to save up the money for the trip; his father wouldn't have given him a penny even if Dib needed it to save his life. He had also learned the hard way that you never ask Gaz for anything. He rubbed his sore right arm absentmindedly, briefly remembering the beating he had received at her hands just that morning for asking her to pass the milk.

Despite the distinct lack of help from his family, he had been able to raise the cash by doing all those irritating chores the neighbours were willing to give to any of the local children who were desperate and stupid enough to ask: drain cleaning, leaf raking, toilet unclogging –he shuddered at that memory- and gutter scrapping.

But it had been worth it. He had heard of Silent Hill years before; a few weeks before Zim had come to town in fact. But now Zim was gone, and Dib needed something else to do. He had never gotten any proof of Zim's xenomorphic origins, and that had left him feeling cold and empty. That was the other reason he was going to Silent Hill; he was hoping beyond hope that he could get some actual, real, definitive proof of the paranormal there.

And he needed that proof; especially after Zim's little 'parting gift.'

Dib had heard some good stories about Silent Hill. Apparently, a man had a car accident near the town a while back; the next day he wandered into a nearby village claiming that he'd seen hell, monsters, and an attempted resurrection of a god. They, of course, sent him to the loony bin. Turns out that seventeen years later, his adopted daughter went into Silent Hill. Police reports said that she went on a murderous rampage soon after, killing a bunch of townsfolk and a private detective. Then there was that guy who abducted his dying wife, smothered her, and then committed suicide by driving into Silent Hill's Toluca Lake. You know, fun stories like that.

There was something weird going on with this town; he could feel it in the swoosh of his hair. And he was going to find out what it was. Then he'd show them. He'd show them all.

Dib looked around, and noticed everyone was giving him weird looks; and all were sitting on the other side of the bus. Hey, some things never changed.

* * *

"Gaz!" Professor Membrane called in his classic 'what I say is important to ALL MANKIND' voice. 

"What?" Gaz spat back, irritated that her quality Game Slave II playing time was being interrupted.

"I haven't seen your brother; he usually comes by to bother me about his pseudo-science around this hour. Where is he?"

"Off to his painful death."

"Oh, alright." Professor Membrane said, before marching back into his underground laboratory to perform some tests on his brand-spanking new weasel-powered car engine. It was 14 percent more efficient then gasoline, after all.

* * *

Things weren't going well for Anastasia. Well, to be honest, nothing ever _really_ went well for the girl. She started off with poor genetics: sickly composure, ratty hair, and a weak stomach leading to anorexia. Things didn't get any better either, here school days sucked; she never had any good friends, and she wasn't good with sports or academics. 

Then she was killed, and that put a huge negative in the 'things going well-o-meter.'

But she didn't truly die, which was sorta neat, she had to admit, what with the power and control and the lovely glow-y eyes that came with it. Yeah, she didn't really mind being a god in Silent Hill. It let her take revenge on all the little people who made her life a living hell when she was living. But then those freaky church-goers tried to exorcise her, which wasn't fun. In the end, however, she did kill them, and gave herself a pat on the back for a job well done.

But she got bored.

So she sat in the town for a while, waiting for more people to show up. She had figured out rather quickly that she couldn't touch anyone who was fundamentally innocent; no, she needed people with darkness in them. Luckily, she was dealing with humanity here, so people like that were never in short supply.

So she sat, on the border of her world and the 'real' world, and waited. Waited for the bad people. Waited for the hurt people. Waited for anybody she could get her hands on. Figuratively speaking, of course; she never actually touched -or killed- anyone herself. Never needed to. That was one of the most fun things about this town; it let the person's own issues do the dirty work.

But back to the present: things weren't going well for Anastasia _right now_. There had been no fresh meat in ages, and she was hungry.

But the worst thing was that Silent Hill, **her** Silent Hill, was still infested with the living. How they managed to evade her for so long was seriously starting to piss her off. They were using a ward or spell or some such voodoo crap to keep themselves out of her sight; sitting safely somewhere munching on snacks and laughing.

Laughing at _her_.

All because of **HIM.**

Anastasia's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a breeze across her cheek. It had been a while since she felt that feeling; the feeling of fresh meat coming to Silent Hill.

"Maybe things are finally going to start looking up" she said to herself, and grinned.

Getting up from her seat, she pulled her mind away from the irritations she'd been focusing on and redirected it towards the newcomer. She wanted everything to be perfect for his arrival.

* * *

Dib had gotten off the bus at Brahams, a small town just outside of Silent Hill. No one would offer him a ride to his destination, so he started walking. It was two hours into his hike when he started feeling a bit dizzy. Never one to be deterred by a little light-headedness he pushed on. 

A bad mistake, as he passed out on his feet moments later, smacking his head against a nearby sigh post on the way down.

"Oooowww" he groaned as he picked himself up off the cold pavement some time later. His head swirled, but he forced through the fog in his brain and looked around... only to see real fog. It was thick and almost viscous-looking in texture; but the most distinct thing about it was that it permeated _everything_. Dib had never been in such a thick fog; he could barely see six feet in front of himself.

Dib stood, and did a quick equipment check.

"Glasses? Check, still on face.

"Camera? Check, unbroken in pocket.

"Video recorder? Check, working fine.

"Audio recorder? Check, functioning perfectly.

"Notebook, pens, pencils? Check, pencils are a bit dull though...

"Organs?" He felt around his stomach for a moment. "Check, still in the right place.

"Talking to myself in an unusual manner? Oh yeah, double check."

Safe in his knowledge that everything was as it had been before his unexpected nap on the pavement, Dib tried to see through the fog to get his bearings. He was instantly rewarded.

"Welcome to Silent Hill." Dib read the sign aloud as he passed it, congratulating himself on finally reaching his final destination.


	2. I, ii: Diving into the Dream

_A/N: __Three __quick things:_

_I changed the title from "Dib's Forsaken Memories" to "Dib's Restless Dreams." This is because for the life of me I couldn't think of any good memories for Dib to forsake._

_I rated this "T," but that is from my perspective. I know that I am a wildly jaded person, and that my T rating could very well be someone else's M. If anyone feels at any time that this story crosses that magic line between T and M, please tell me so I can change the rating. Thanks._

_And finally, thanks to __MadeUpFigment__QueenLola__, and __Nikooru__-Chan for the reviews._

* * *

_Act I, Scene ii: Diving into the Dream_

"Here we are! The little town of Silent Hill, the home of some of the most disturbing paranormal events in American history. Yes, this is it; the zenith of weirdness! The apex of insanity! The nadir of normalcy! ...And where the hell is everybody?!?" Dib shouted at the empty streets of Silent Hill. He hit the 'off' button on his video recorder, no need to waste the battery on useless footage.

This was starting to weird him out. He'd been walking for almost a half-hour now, and he hadn't seen so much as a lone squirrel. He could understand that people wouldn't want to walk around in this mad fog, but come on! At least let there be a stray dog somewhere!

Scratch that, after the 'bologna incident' Dib didn't want to see another dog for the rest of his life.

"Heeelloooooooooo!" Dib called into the fog for what seemed like the hundredth timeand for the hundredth time got no answer.

"...Useless" Dib muttered, as he pushed his way further into Silent Hill's business district. He was getting frustrated; there was no one around, the fog was hiding almost everything from his sight, and he was **extremely** lost. He very well might have been walking in circles, it was nigh impossible to distinguish one building from another. _Seriously, _Dib thought, _would it kill them to have some variety in the architecture? That's all-_

WHACK

Lost in his thoughts, Dib had run face-first into a parked car. Rubbing his sore head, he used the offending vehicle to pull himself back to his feat.

"Who put a car here?" he asked, shaking the last of the shock from his brain. He looked it over; a Honda Civic, white, kinda rusty. Dib walked around the car, looking for any sign that the owner might be around. Upon closer inspection, it seems that to doors were unlocked.

"Oops" Dib said unconvincingly as he 'accidentally' opened the car door. With speed honed from years of sleuthing, he checked every nook and cranny of the vehicle. He opened the glove compartment, and found exactly what he needed: a map of the town.

He set the map against the hood of that car and studied it. Silent Hill was built around Toluca Lake, the main street of the old tourist town hugged the west edge closely, a bridge over a narrow portion of the lake connected the south and north sides of the town. Dib was in the business district on the north-most end.

With a quick glance to the nearby street corner to get his bearings, he found that he was on Koonts St in the southwest side of his current region. He used his finger to trace out a path to the Lakeside Amusement Park; the first area he wanted to check out. It didn't seem like to bad of a walk; a couple of turns, some bridges, and he was there.

Dib pocketed the map and looked up. It seemed the fog had cleared a bit; he could now see the edge of the opposite sidewalk.

"Things are finally starting to look up," Dib said to himself as he began his trek through Silent Hill.

* * *

"Ok, this whole 'no one's here' thing is starting to freak me out" Dib muttered to himself as passed the fifteenth shop with locked doors. It was barely four-thirty on a Friday; everything should have still been open. He walked farther, checking more doors. All locked. He remembered reading of a plague in the early 1700s that wiped out most of the town, but an illness of that magnitude in this day and age would at least be reported in the news. Right? 

Dib, once again lost in thought, was torn from his reverie (just inches from a lamp post) by a strange crackling sound. Thoroughly curious, and hopeful that noise meant people, Dib oriented himself in the general direction of the sound and marched forward.

A building emerged out of the fog; a police station.

brr...zkzz

"Yes!" Dib yelled, moving forwards to the building; the promise of people behind the doors making him break up into a run.

brrkzzkkrrrkk...kbkkbk

That crackling sound got louder, rising to an almost deafening pitch. With a quick motion, he checked the doors. Unlocked! Joy swelling in his organs, Dib burst into the station.

BKKKKRRRRRRRKKKZZZZZZZKK

Dib's heart dropped as the doors closed behind him; there was no one inside the police station either.

_**BBBRRZZZZFFKRKRRKKKKRRRRRZZZZKZKK**_

"What the hell is making that noise?" Dib had to almost shout to hear himself over that sound. A sweep of the room revealed the culprit to be a single police two-way radio dangling from a hook. Dib slid over to it, desperately trying to turn it off before his ear drums burst. He managed to find the volume switch, and immediately cranked it down until the sound of the static was just above a murmur.

"I... guess it's broken or something" Dib said absently to himself, looking over the odd little police radio. He poked it, shook it, and even smacked it lightly against the wall, but to no avail; it was still sputtering white noise. Dib wondered if the town had suffered some sort of electro-mag-

THUMP!

Dib jumped, spinning to face the mysterious sound; on top of the secretary's desk, in the corner of the room, stood some _thing_.

Dib fell on his rear as he looked over the monstrosity before him. It was slightly shorter than Dib, slimy, and a greyish colour, like dead flesh. Its body was maggot-like, no legs, but with stubby little arms featuring warped fingers at their ends; the pointer finger was twice as long as the other digits and had a claw on the tip. It had no face, but rather a massive vertical mouth that took up the majority of its head; smaller, secondary mouths were spread seemingly at random all over its body.

Dib gagged when it screamed. The noise, making the spazzing radio sound almost lyrical, was like a hyena being kicked in the balls; a high-pitched, warbling, squeaky laugh. The sound hit Dib like an ice pick, piercing into the back of his brain and flicking the tiny switch marked: 'Run! Run for your _life__'_

Dib sprung up from his sitting position and threw himself at the door he had come through. He pulled at it, but nothing happened. He remembered the doors swung inwards, but even so he gave a few experimental shoves just to make sure it hadn't turned into a push door. No luck; it still wouldn't budge.

Dib came to a sickening revelation. The door was locked. It must have locked after it had swung closed; the noise of the radio drowning out the 'click' that cut Dib off from his freedom.

The sickening sound of something wet dragging itself across the floor caused Dib to turn his head. The _thing_ had climbed from the desk and was slowly crawling its way towards him, the mouths snapping hungrily, and loosing the occasional laughing shriek.

The option of flight gone, Dib fell back on the only remaining way to survive. Fight. He scanned the room for something, _anything_, that could be used as a weapon. The majority of the interior of the station was empty, but there seemed to be a hole in the wall a few meters from his left. He stumbled to it quickly, the sounds of the laughing maggot-thing moving closer spurring him to move faster.

There were a few wooden planks around the hole, some even had nails in them, but they looked far to flimsy to be of any use. Looking inside, his face broke into a smile despite the situation. In the hole, propped up against water pipes and support beams, was an iron pipe. It was long, easily as long as Dib's arm, and had a dull metallic shine; not even a speck of rust on it.

Grabbing the pipe, Dib turned to face the creature; only to find it has crept up on him, its head barely a foot away.

Dib cried out in panic, bringing the iron pipe down on the monster. The weapon struck the thing's head with sickening force, producing a dull, wet, thud. There was no satisfying 'crunch,' despite the power of the blow; the thing didn't seem to have any solid skeletal structure.

The wounded monster staggered, then let opened its mouths and made another laughing shriek. Dib hit it again.

THUD!

...The creature wobbled, and opened its mouths once more.

THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!

Dib kept hitting it until the multi-mouthed demon stopped moving, and collapsed in a pool of its own blood. Dib collapsed against the wall, hands shaking so badly that they could barely grasp the pipe that saved his life. He didn't know if his trembling was from fear or because his adrenalin was wearing off; either way he didn't care. He had to get out of this freaky town before it killed him. He had completed his objective anyway; he came in search of the paranormal, and he got it. Once he got that creature's corpse back to civilization, no one would ever doubt his claims again; they'd all finally realize his genius, and he'd never be ridiculed again.

Smiling, he turned to his slightly battered prize – and was greeted by empty space. The thing was gone. It was dead, Dib made sure of that, but even if by some unholy miracle it had survived the beating, Dib **distinctly** remembered that it had collapsed in a pool of its own blood. The floor was clean. Upon inspection, his iron pipe was clean. It hadn't moved, it was simply _gone_. Dib had taken his eyes off it for an _instant,_ and it had disappeared.

No evidence.

Dib's spirit plummeted, but a little voice in the back of his head spoke words of encouragement. Sort of.

_Don't worry,_ it said, _there will be more of them. There are always more, that's how the universe works. It's always darkest b__efore dawn, and it's not even dusk__ yet. You have a camera. You have a video recorder. What does it matter if they go away after they die? Just record__ them__ while they live_

Dib's inner voice was right, he could feel that this wasn't the end of the weirdness, and he resolved to stay in that town –monsters or no- until he had definitive proof of the supernatural. To hell with his fear, he was prepared, he had the equipment, and he had the know-how. Nothing was going to stop him from getting a sample of something bizarre and proving his sanity to everyone.

After collecting his thoughts, Dib started to search the police station; never wondering why his inner voiced had seemed rather... feminine.

* * *

His search of the station had been almost fruitless. The few doors that weren't locked lead to useless rooms, or worse: rooms with puzzles for door keys. _Who puts puzzles in a police station?_ Dib thought to himself, _and they call __**me**__ crazy..._

Dib had so far solved two simple number puzzles, one featuring simple multiplication for the code of a touchpad, and the other featuring a number-and-letter combination lock to a safe. After some thinking, he had found out that the numbers for the lock were 1-20, and the letters represented the numbers after that; a21, b22, and the like. That little brain game had earned him the key to the rear exit of the police station. A map he had found (courtesy of the multiplication puzzle) showed that the rear exit connected to a side street that leads to the bridge that connected to the residential district.

From there it was a quick jog to the amusement park. There was a street that lead out of Silent Hill near his destination, so he could make a quick getaway if need be.

He reached the exit, they key fit perfectly into the lock, and with a click it swung out into the foggy Silent Hill air. The walk to the bridge was fairly quick and uneventful. Dib was grateful for the temporary period of calm. His encounter with the mysterious disappearing laughing monster had shaken him, leaving him on edge; while he was searching the police station he had jumped at every tiny squeak of his shoes and every creak of the building. There was something about the fog that seemed to soothe him; the swirling white mist almost made him feel as if he were walking in a dream. There were no monsters nearby; the radio wasn't going crazy, nor did he hear the distinct laughing-cry of the maggot things.

So Dib walked. He twirled the iron pipe absentmindedly, occasionally tossing it into the air like a baton. Once he became bored of that game, he started to play around with the radio again. It was a two-way police radio, after all, and he thought that maybe he could get in touch with some cops; both to have witnesses to the happenings in Silent Hill, and for the firepower. If he could twist the antenna in just the right-

Drip

"...Drip?" Repeated Dib, turning his head in the direction of the sound.

He immediately, truly, really wished he hadn't.

He had reached the bridge; it was stone, two large square pillars stood at the two visible corners of the construct. Purely for decoration, they rose almost five meters straight up, and were a meter in diameter.

Pinned by two huge rusted metal spikes, a corpse hung on the pillar to the right. Above it, in letters written in blood:

**NO ESCAPE**

The head had been completely decimated, what little remained made Dib gag, struggling with all his might to keep his stomach from emptying its contents on the street. Slowly regaining his composure, he looked over at the dead body once more. He couldn't tell the gender, there was too much damage. Realizing that this scene may very well be considered strange enough to be supernatural, Dib snapped a few quick pictures with his camera before taking a few tentative steps forward to better see the corpse. The first metal spike was embedded in the upper chest, securing the poor victim to the stone pillar. The person's torso was torn apart with cuts that looked like claw marks; they were deep and straight.

The second spike was embedded in the right wrist; holding it firmly in place away from the rest of the body. Grasped in the dead hand was a black book with silver writing on the cover; Dib couldn't read if from this distance. Working up some of his courage (and grasping his iron pipe firmly), Dib inched closer to this macabre landmark.

Dib had gotten very close, when a revelation hit him. The cadaver didn't smell. That meant that it was extremely... fresh. Dib looked around once more, double checking that no one, or no _thing_, was going to jump out at him. Confident that he and his wall-buddy were alone, he moved up and snatched the book form the corpse's hand.

The Notes of James Kilroy was the title of the book. Dib moved back to the sidewalk opposite of the carcass and flicked the book open.

To his great disappointment, it seemed that most of the pages had been ripped out. He skimmed the ones left, and was disappointed again. They were the daily notes of this 'Kilroy' person, what he ate, where he slept, stuff like that. The only points of interest were the first and last pages.

**Page 1: Introduction**

**The following will be my notes and theories on this town of Silent Hill. We arrived here not long ago, but the signs are already pointing to our painful deaths. We lost almost half our number to that red devil**** in the first few hours****. The rest of us are holed up in... **-the next few lines are illegible, as they are smeared with blood –

**...And it is my endeavour a****s**** a future man of science to record the strange happenings here, so that if we survive this horror (or if someone else finds this journal)**** then my knowledge can be passed on. **

The last two pages were stuck together, Dib decided to try and pry the pages apart as he walked across the bridge; that corpse was starting to make him feel queasy.

He worked the pages carefully apart, slowly separating the delicate sheets of paper in order not to damage them. Dib finally worked them open, and found out why they had been stuck together. Another message, again written in blood, was inside the journal.

**Welcome to the Nightmare, Dib!**

The radio began to crackle, and Dib tightened his grip on his pipe.


	3. I, iii: The Downside to REM Sleep

_A/N__: Ok, this chapter didn't turn out as well as I hoped, and I'm really sorry. Just sorta fell apart as I was writing it; I can't for the life of me think of a way to fix it, though. Again, I apologize._

_The line "There was a Hole here / __it's__ gone now" is from Silent Hill 2._

_The names of the survivors from Kilroy's notes are people I knew in school. _

_Thanks to __**MadeUpFigment, **__**Nikooru**__**-Chan**__**, Oryps, **__**Queen**__**Lola**__, and __**Psychonerd**__**5 **__for the reviews. You guys__' reviews__ are _my _crystal meth. (Sorry, bad RAB joke.)_

_**Psyconerd**__** 5**__: Alas, I don't think there will be any other Silent Hill staple characters (other than the Red Devil (it was __touched on__ in SH2)). I was toying with the Idea of Pyramid Head, __but __our favourite metal-headed friend is the embodiment of punishment, and Dib hasn't done anything to warrant punishment. Sorry. And yes, there is one more IZ character, introduced (briefly__ and poorly) in this chappy. __Think of him as Pyramid Head's replacement._

_**MadeUpFigment**__: All the monsters are original (other than the Red Devil, but that was only mentioned (and not shown) in the second SH game); I'll explain why later in the story. _

_And so, I give you the next chapter of the nightmare. The next one'll be better, promise.  
_

_(PS: There are some weird formatting issues with the submission process. I've gone through it, but there may still be some mistakes. Sorry 'bout that) _

* * *

_Act I, Scene iii: The Downsides to R.E.M .Sleep_

Three of them; laughing-maggots. They emerged from the fog, pulling their revolting bodies forward and snapping at the air with their many mouths. Dib put Kilroy's notebook in his trench coat pocket, trading it for his video camera.

The sound of the radio was starting to annoy Dib; it had become slightly redundant anyway, he already _knew_ there were monsters nearby anyway. He spun the volume dial down to nothing, the crackling sound of static dying away.

The creatures stopped moving. Dib watched with fascination as they lifted their heads into the air, fleshy tongues flicking in and out of their mouths, seemingly tasting the foggy air.

Bringing the video camera up, Dib turned on the power and waited for it to warm up. It was a newer model, with an onboard mini-CPU. It could compensate for glare and jitter, and even had a night-vision option. The downside to the whole thing was that it took a minute or two to warm up.

Time didn't seem to be an issue, though, the creatures simply sat and waved their tongues in the air. Dib became curious; why were these monstrosities sitting and waiting patiently? He couldn't figure it out...

Dib mentally kicked himself. The answer was so obvious that he had overlooked it entirely; they had no eyes.

They were blind.

They had been attracted by the sound of the radio; the sound that alerted Dib to their presence in the first place. _So, _Dib reasoned, _as long as I turn off the radio after I see them, and don't make any loud noises, I should be perfectly fine-_

**BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!** Wailed the camera, announcing to the world that it was powered up and ready to go.

The reaction was instantaneous; three sickly-gray, deformed heads whipped towards the source of the sound. Laughing cries echoed in the streets, and with disturbing speed they crawled towards Dib; multiple mouths salivating at the prospect of fresh meat.

Dib hefted his iron pipe over his head, and charged the laughing-maggots.

* * *

The last of the creatures collapsed to the ground with a wet thud. _I can take the ghost town, I can take the creatures, I can__ even__ take the messages written in blood, but I don't think I can ever get used to fighting for my life_, Dib thought as he shook; the last of the adrenalin working its way out of his system. 

He barely remembered the fight; it just seemed like a terrifying blur. Dib did a quick check to make sure he was still in one piece. He didn't seem to be bleeding, and his iron pipe was still in one hand and the camera in the other.

Camera. There was something important he needed to remember about the camera...

It hit Dib like a fish to the face, he was supposed to be gathering evidence of the paranormal; not lollygagging around whining about how he didn't like to fight.

He spun, camera up to his eye and recording. The first two creatures he killed were already gone, but the third was still lying on the ground where it had dropped. Dib stood, motionless, recording the dead laughing-maggot, waiting for whatever made them disappear to happen.

He didn't have to wait long.

A bulge moved silently up from the pool of blackish-red blood, up through the creature before finally coming to the surface; and popping. It was a bubble. A bubble _inside_ the thing. More of these bubbles came up from the blood, bursting as they came to the surface of the monster; each liquefying the carcass a piece at a time. It took nearly five seconds from the first bubble to turn the entire creature into a puddle of goo. The liquid, now a sickly mix of blood-red and dead-flesh-gray, was absorbed by the street; leaving nothing but the faint smell of rot.

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Dib played back the recording from his camera; just to make sure it was there. The scene from the video camera was the same that he had witnessed. Satisfied, he turned it off; placing it back in one of the many pockets of his coat.

Dib took another calming breath, readjusted his glasses, and turned the radio back on (he still needed to know when those things were nearby). Looking at his map, he resumed his trek to the amusement park.

* * *

**There was a hole here**

** It's gone now**

More wall writing, but this time it seemed to be simple red spray-paint; a pleasant change of pace. _It's nice to know not __**everything**__ here is written in bodily fluids, _thought Dib,

"But it would be even better if it wasn't written on a wall IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!" Dib vented his fury at the mysterious wall; at least twenty feet of vertical concrete, the barrier firmly blocked off the street, Dib's rout though the last leg of the residential district of Silent Hill. Just why this wall was here, Dib couldn't understand. Possibilities flew through his mind.

City Improvement? No, why would anyone need such a massive wall? Containment? Possibly, this was the second barrier he had encountered (the other was a huge hole he assumed was dug to fix the sewage pipes or something). Maybe some survivors made it to keep the monsters out? _Yeah,_ the cynical voice of doubt said in Dib's mind. _They had the material, time, and manpower to build a twenty foot tall wall and dig a huge hole while those monsters just sat there and twiddled their thumbs. Not very likely._

Whatever the original reason for its placement, the fact remained that it cut off the only other road to Dib's destination. Dib took out his map and poured over it in frustrated silence. The roads were blocked, so he needed another way to get through. It was two minutes later that the answer came to him in all its unpleasant glory.

He had to go through the school.

It was on the border between the residential area and local resort, and the playground connected back onto the main road. It was Dib's only choice.

Dib pocketed his map, and began his march back to school.

* * *

Hundreds of thousands of light-years away, the Irken Armada was engaged in a fierce battle over the planet Meekrob. Those energy freaks were putting up one hell of a fight. Even after Invader Tenn's recovery from the malfunctioning SIR units, she had not been able to put much of a dent in the planet's defences by the time the Massive had arrived. 

It was a close fight, but the armada was winning. The red and purple Tallest were enjoying popcorn, observing the fight from cushy seats on the bridge of their flagship.

"Sirs," A communications officer called from his console, "We're receiving a message... Origin unknown."

"What's the ID signature?" the Tallest Red asked between chews of his snack. The ID signature was developed in order to keep track of invaders; but more specifically used to ignore calls from their least favourite irken, Invader-

"Zim." Answered the comms officer.

"**What?**" Tallest Purple cried, nearly choking on his snack. "I thought he'd been –"

The surprised Tallest was interrupted by the main screen bursting into static. It slowly came into focus to reveal a blurry figure.

Two mouthfuls of half-eaten popcorn hit the floor in tandem, the jaws of the Irken Tallest dropping in revulsion and shock.

"Hello my Tallest. Long time no see."

* * *

Dib paused at the huge double doors of Silent Hill's school. He had bad memories of school. 

"Heh, bad doesn't even begin to describe it." Dib muttered to the cold air. He had started off as a social pariah, and it had gone downhill from there. It had gotten to the point where he fondly remembered the times when all he had been called was 'weird' and 'crazy.'

School for him had been a hell that could almost compare what he had seen so far in Silent Hill. The teasing, the beatings the wedgies... The horrible wedgies! Every day, all day. He was the school scapegoat; everyone used him to vent their own frustration.

No, he wasn't the scapegoat, he was the sacrifice; the one child who was thrown to the wolves so that the others could survive.

But Dib wouldn't be beaten; not by school, and not by this freaky town. He burst through the school doors and trudged into the darkness.

* * *

Things weren't going well for Anastasia. She had completely underestimated this newcomer to her playground. He had remained (relatively) calm after the monsters _and_ her little sign-corpse. 

She'd worked so hard to set the whole dead body thing up; and she even went through the trouble to send him a personal message. 'Welcome to the nightmare,' an old one, but a good one.

Even so, he didn't have the reaction she wanted. Anastasia was hoping for something along the lines of 'running around screaming,' but the only thing she got was a gag (not even a little bit of vomit, just a single gag), and maybe he turned a little bit white. Maybe.

That wasn't the worst of her problems. She'd hoped that sending him on a fieldtrip to the school, one of her favourite hell-holes, would provide her with some amusement. But her fun was not meant to be, it seemed the little bastard had issues about school that rivalled her own. If his nightmares were to overtake hers...

Then she would lose control, the world would break down, and her fun with him would end. The loss of control would be temporary, and end pretty quickly, but she doubted he could survive. Hell, the only reason he lasted this long was that she had kept the 'fun' creatures at bay.

A shudder passed through Anastasia, something was wrong somewhere else in the town. Probably **HIM** again. She'd have to go fix the problem herself. "Damn it" she cursed as she got up from her seat and moved towards this new irritation. She stole one last glance over her shoulder.

She really hoped that Dib kid lived for a little longer.

* * *

It was really dark; the school was almost pitch black.. The sounds didn't help either. Random sounds. 

Laughing.

_Screaming_.

His radio wasn't going off, so he knew there were no monsters nearby, but that didn't make things any less disturbing. He'd been feeling his way along the wall in the darkness, leaning heavily on it. So when the wall suddenly stopped being there, he fell through the hole.

Picking himself up from the grimy floor, he looked around; a single sputtering florescent light provided a little illumination. He was in a bathroom; the 'hole' he'd fallen through was the open doorway. He dusted himself off.

_SNAP!_

Dib jumped at the sound. Turning around to face the lone closed stall at the far end of the room, Dib slowly inched his way closer to where the sound had come from. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to run in the opposite direction, but Dib was too curious to back away.

A light swung slowly back and forth under the stall door. A soft creaking could be heard over Dib's breathing. He reaches his hand out and pushed the door open.

Dib was happy he was in a washroom. He runs to the next stall and vomits into the toilet, his previously iron stomach succumbing. Dib stays in his stall for a minute after he's finished, trying to regain his composure. Breathing heavily, he stands up; he knew he needed to go back to the other stall, but every fibre in his body was protesting it.

He really wished he'd paid attention to his instincts.

Taking a final calming breath, he walked back to the stall at the end of the bathroom. His original purpose working its way back into his mind, he brought out his camera. Raising it, he looked away as he took the picture. Putting the camera back, he continued to look away for a few more seconds; mustering his courage. He finally turned his head towards the open stall –

and looked at himself, slowly swinging by the rope around his neck. The black hair's swoosh was dishevelled, the trench coat hung limp over a neutral-face shirt. A flashlight was strapped in one of the pockets, casting the entire scene in an ethereal glow.

A message was carved into the hung boy's face:

**Always Prepared**

He snatched the flashlight as quickly as possible, and slammed the stall door shut. He ran out of the bathroom, only coming to a stop when he could run no further.

* * *

Dib had finally calmed down enough to come to the conclusion that he was very lost. His panicked run had completely spun him around, and he didn't have a map of the school. All the windows were boarded up, so he couldn't even look outside to figure out the general direction he should be going in. 

A creeping feeling in his spine wasn't helping either. It felt like things were spiralling out of control. Dib wanted out of that school, and he wanted out fast.

He had entered a hallway full of lockers; he didn't even bother trying to open them, they were all padlocked; but something caught his eye.

A symbol, drawn on one of the far lockers. It looked like a deranged smiley face, one eye was bigger than the other, and the grin was lopsided and toothy. The entire face was rotated almost forty-five degrees counter-clockwise, further adding to the look of insanity.

The locker didn't seem to have a lock, so Dib opened it. The first thing he saw made him break into a smile. It was a Stinger pistol. He had overheard his dad talking about Stingers once; they were the last generation of solid-slug weapons, made right before laser technology really took off. They were apparently very valuable among collectors because of their ease of use, raw stopping power, and rarity.

There were two clips of ammunition in the locker beside the weapon. Dib clumsily loaded one of them into the gun; he didn't know how many bullets were in each clip so he'd have to be careful on what he used them on. He dropped the extra clip in a pocket, and stuck the gun in his belt. He liked it, but he'd keep his trusty iron pipe for just a little longer.

The second thing Dib saw in the locker was less destructive, but just as useful. Pulling the sheets of paper out and into the light, he read some of the missing pages from Kilroy's notes.

* * *

**Page 2**

**It has been a few days since we arrived in this cursed town. I've had some free time to think, and a single question keeps surfacing in my mind: why us? **

**Almost three-quarters of the**** total****number of people we set off with were... 'encompassed' by****Silent Hill. Where did that first quarter go? Are they still in the real world, wondering where we went? But the main question remains: Why were **_**we**_** taken, while they were not?**

**I have come to the conclusion that it is because of our 'darkness,' for lack of a better term. After talking with the other survivors, it seems that each**** of us**** has had a major unpleasant event in their life. Marco's mother died violently, ****and ****Courtney had killed someone (in self-defence, apparently). There is more, but the point has been made: we've all been touched by darkness in one form or another. **

**But this brings me to an even greater question: why hasn't anyone noticed that people are disappearing in this town? The only plausible answer is this:**

**Only 'tourists' are being consumed by Silent Hill. That way no one notices that it is the **_**town **_**that's making people disappear. They simply write it off as something else; but who can blame them? For all ****the Police**** know the people who disappeared could have run off to Mexico, or Canada. **

**This forces me to come to another, more dramatic conclusion: the people of Silent Hill, those that live in the 'real world' Silent Hill, are **_**Fuelling**_** this place. **

**There is no way that every resident is truly innocent, free of darkness, so I can only assume the reason they aren't taken is that they are necessary in some way.**

**While I believe the above to be true, there is no way for me to confirm it while I am stuck in this nightmare. **

* * *

Dib finished reading the notes, and placed them inside his notebook. He resumed his search for the exit, his brain full of ideas about innocence. Specifically, his innocence (or lack thereof). 

Dib almost ran head-first into a wall, wrenching himself out of his thoughts just inches from the cold hard surface. Pulling back slightly, his eyes widened; he was looking at a school map. A clear, obvious 'you are here' pointed to the second floor hall he was in.

His face fell when he saw that all the staircases were marked as 'locked'. His brow furrowed, if they were all locked, how had he gotten up here in the first place? Dib stopped that train of thought. In this messed-up town with monsters, death, and insanity, why was he trying to make sense of something petty like locked doors?

Looking back at the map, he noticed that a classroom had been circled in red. Not really having any other place to go, Dib headed there.

Walking into the room, the first thing Dib noticed was a large metal box where the teacher's desk should have been. Moving up to it, he let out a groan. Another puzzle. There was a large square cut into the top of the box, with tiny squares in it; each square had what appeared to be a piece of a scrambled picture on it. There was one square missing in the corner, the point of the puzzle being to use that gap to move the other pieces around so they make a complete picture.

Dib **hated** these kinds of puzzles, he could never get them. He'd just spend hours moving the same squares around in a pathetic attempt to solve the damn thing. He looked around the room, desperate to find something he could procrastinate with. Deep down he knew he had to solve the puzzle, but he needed some time to mentally prepare first.

Going over to the bulletin board, Dib looked at the papers stuck to it. Most simply read: "all work and no play make Dib a dull boy." Sort of disturbing, but not very original. Dib chuckled; he was becoming seriously jaded. Simply inserting his name into things no longer had that much of an effect.

One piece of paper was different, though. It was torn, and slightly stained by what looked like ink. Squinting hard, Dib realized it was another piece of Kilroy's notes.

"Lucky" Dib whispered to the empty classroom as he read what he could of the note.

**---happened again, this time with Josh, Ian, Lauren and I. I barely escaped with my life. Josh and Ian didn't make it, and Lauren's lef------ **

**----seems to happen when one of us is consumed by our own nig****h****tma****-----**

Dib stopped reading for a moment, that weird laughing/screaming thing was happening again. Shaking it off (he didn't care, as long as his radio didn't go off), he continued reading.

**----t**** breaks down; ****the true potential of this place ****comes out in all its terrifying fury. It stretches around the person who caused it, ****pulling them into anothe****----**

**----Keeping in mind that our current**** foggy**** reality is called the "Other****w****orld," I've decided to designated this other phenomenon **

**"****The ****Nightmare"**

Dib stopped reading; his head had begun to pound. The screaming of the school around him had become a cacophony; Dib covered his ears, trying to dull the sound.

The entire room seemed to pulse, his head felt as if it was being turned inside out.

He fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands, curling up into a fetal ball.

Dib slipped into unconsciousness as the room around him twisted and changed.

* * *

Dib woke. 

Looking around at what had once been a classroom, he became very confident in one thing:

That puzzle didn't matter anymore.


	4. II, i: Douglas Adams Said it Best

_A/N: Short chapter. The next one'll be short too._

_**IMPORTANT**____ In my world, guns go "WHAM!" or, in the case of a rifle, "CRACK!" I don't know where people get the 'B' sound from. Also! The title of this chapter refers to the line "Don't Panic!" from Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_

___Yeah... My willpower's starting to wane. Two reasons: One, stuff's happening, and it's totally harshing my mellow. No mellow means slow, forced writing. Also, I've started watching Avatar: the Last Airbender; which is eating my time. Two: I try to put myself in a character's circumstance, to do a better job writing about it. Problem is, I get scared easily (I had nightmares for a month after playing The Suffering). So, I've officially scared myself silly writing this story; and it's gonna get worse, I hope (hey, scariness is success in a horror story).__ So, in conclusion, I'll probably end up updating slower. BUT TAKE HEART! I'll try to get in a chap a week minimum, and I will NEVER, NEVER leave a story unfinished._

___Gah__, I really hope I made the nightmare world good. I didn't feel it, personally, but then again, how do you make classroom and hallway frightening? Oh well, I tried. _

___Thanks to__** Lord Lager, **__**Oryps**____**psychonerd**__** 5, **__and__** Queen Lola**_

_____Mega-Thanks to __**Nikooru**__**-Chan **__and__** MadeUpFigment**__ for reviewing every chapter__ so far__. I'd write you guys in, but then I'd have to kill you off!  
_

_____**MadeUpFigment**__: You're probably right, I might be trying too hard to make the stupid things perfect. But hey, it doesn't hurt to try! __:3__ And no, you're not a crappy reviewer. All reviews goodness, so by virtue of reviewing, you thereby are no longer a crappy reviewer. Blows you mind, huh_

_____**Lord Lager:**__Nyet__, no Pyramids in this story, sorry. But, there is method behind the madness of the monsters; as described in this very chapter! As for some Zimmy insight, that comes in the next one, be patient! _

_____(PS: Just so you know, I'm not too fond of this chapter either. You've been warned!) (Oh! The formatting's FUBAR, don't know why. I'll fix as much as I can)  
_

* * *

_____Act II, Scene __i__: Douglas Adams Said it Best_

Dib looked slowly around the room.

'Nightmare' was a very accurate description of it, in his mind.

Where the old classroom had been dark, and mostly greyish-white, the new room was a deep red. There was no visible light source, but the whole room seemed to produce its own sickly glow.

Decrepit grey-white walls were gone. They'd been replaced with haphazardly placed rusted metal plates bolted together to form a semblance of a wall. Where the plates failed to overlap, there was grating; weak light flickered through, as if behind a fan.

Frozen faces grew from the wall; metal wrapped around their eyes, leaving only open mouths in silent screams. Moving back, Dib bumped into a desk. The desk bumped back. Spinning, with the iron pipe in hand, he came face to face with another face.

The entire desk had been twisted into the lower half of an upside-down head. The top of the desk was the severed neck; a nearby chair was made of a detached nose with metal legs jabbed into it.

The mouth of the desk was open, a fleshy tongue twitched back and forth. Licking the floor, licking other desks, and licking Dib.

His courage still wounded from the encounter with his hung counterpart, the wet slapping of the desk-tongue against his legs was enough to throw Dib into a panic. He bolted from the twisted parody of the classroom, stumbling over his own feet in his haste.

The hallway was similar to the classroom; rusted metal plates or all sizes were welded together at random, a deep red light dousing the hallway in its suffocating glow.

There were no faces in the hall, a network of veins pumped thick black fluids through the metallic walls.

Dib noticed little of this as he ran through the nightmare school. The sound of his footfalls barely masking the pounding of his heart.

Turning a sharp corner, he ran headfirst into a set of heavy metal doors with a loud 'splat.'

_Metal doors don't go 'splat'_ the tiny sliver of reason Dib had left in his mind said. His hand instinctively came to his face, checking to see if there was any damage. The tiny sliver of reason promptly began to panic as well.

A quick touch and a glance down revealed that Dib was soaked head to toe in blood. Looking up, his eyes focused on the bleeding indent he'd left in the door.

All sanity left Dib; standing shakily, he faced the wounded door with his iron pipe in hand.

_It bleed_, his now twisted, broken reasoning whispered, _it bleed so it die. Kill it. Kill door._

He let out a war cry, and struck the door as hard as he could. A crunching sound and a fresh spurt of blood was Dib's reward. He struck the door again. And again, and again. Each blow bringing fresh blood out into the dank air.

The next blow punched a hole through the living blockade, and each hit after that opened it more.

Finally finishing his grisly business, Dib paused to catch his breath. His wide-eyed expression of madness had subsided slightly; beating the door to a bloody pulp had calmed him down.

He moved through the doorway carefully, not wanting to touch the twitching remains. Much calmer now, Dib jogged through the winding hallways, not having any real knowledge of where he was going.

The snaking corridor came to an end, a pair of double doors stood under a moss-green sign. It was missing some letters.

**Audi**** o**** i ****m  
**

Dib assumed this broken sign meant 'auditorium.' He brought his faithful iron pipe to bear, and swung it down on the door.

CLANG!

The vibration from hitting a solid metal surface moved through the pipe and into his arms. Cursing softly, Dib tried the knob. The door was unlocked.

Dib walked into the darkness of the auditorium.

It was huge, rows of seats ascended up farther than he could see. The entire room was seemingly warped, the stairs descending to the stage swerved and twisted; there were no straight lines to be seen anywhere.

Dib didn't have much time to assess the landscape anymore before the harsh ringing of a sound system drowned out his thoughts. It hissed for a moment, before settling down. A voice boomed over hidden speakers; it had a metallic, raspy sound.

**From the Notes of James Kilroy: Page 3**

**I'll take this opportunity to discuss my findings on the ****creatures.**

Dib didn't like the way the voice emphasized the word 'creatures.'

Realizing he may need these notes, Dib brings out his own notebook and writes down what he hears.

**I have found, th****r****ough unpleasant experience, that this place has a grip on all our minds. It worms its way inside and turns your thoughts against you. That is the great power of this place: to turn thought into reality. **

**It can be seen in the environment, occasionally, but more often than not the best way to observe this is by studying the creatures in Silent Hill. **

**Each... 'species' of creature here is unique, somehow. For example, when out foraging for food with Courtney, we encountered a certain type of creature I've dubbed "Rasping Zombies." **

**Upon questioning Courtney (at a previous date), I discovered that she had slit the throat of a man that had attempted to sexually harass her. To her further misfortune, she had been locked in a room with the man; meaning that she was trapped there after he was dead. Needless to say, by the time she'd been let out, the corpse had become... ripe.**

A sound came to Dib's ears. It was a mix between the sound of flesh tearing and metal twisting. The voice narrating the notes continued none the less.

**These Rasping Zombies were a perfect representation of this event. Each one was in an advanced state of decay, and each had a huge gash across their necks**** (for the sake of decency, I will not describe any features relating to the sexual nature of Courtney's experience)****. They also made a rasping sound I assume is made when someone tries to breathe after their throats are cut. **

**Long story short, Courtney didn't survive. Not much of a loss, she whined a lot. But! After her death, no more Rasping Zombies ever appeared. **

**I have discovered that when the source of the creatures changes (ie. Another person's nightmares), the 'feel' of the creature changes. Richard's creatures don't feel the same as Mat's. **

The mysterious sound got louder, and Dib looked around for the source. There was a weird black spot on a nearby wall. His radio started to hiss.

**One pattern I've discerned from these creatures it that they**** tend to**** take a ****literal**** form of a nightmare. Richard, for example, has "short-man's syndrome;" he is barely five foot two, and is very self-conscious about it. He feels that everyone is ****judges him by his looks/size**

**Therefore, the creatures spawned from his mind have the same predominant feature: eyes. Large eyes, many eyes, whatever; every one of his creatures has them. **

Dib was bothered by the black spot, so he shone his flashlight on it. It seemed to be growing a lump.

Dib's radio went crazy.

The lump snapped at him.

**An interesting thought I've had: Silent Hill ****must be**** very therapeutic. Assuming the subject survives, that is. **

**By facing your demons head-on, and defeating them, one is better for it; with the same results**** (or better)**** as going to see a therapist, but faster and cheaper. And with guns. Just a thought I had.**

The lump pulled itself further out of the wall. With disgust Dib realized it was one of the laughing-maggots, but not. It was at least two or three times larger than what he'd encountered before. The jet black skin glistened in the red light.

**But, there is one question that haunts me. What of the Red Devil? While there are some unstable people in our little group of survivors, I don't feel that anyone is capable of coming up with ****that****demon ****for two reasons. **

The maggot had black, sinuous cords that covered its body and attached it to the wall. With a mighty jerk, it snapped its bindings and flopped to the floor.

**The first is that the thing seems... old. Almost like it had been roaming around this cursed town for a while now. It also seems to have no affiliation. While other creatures ignore each other, the Red Devil will kill ****anything and everything nearby.**

It opened its mouths; long, semi-translucent fangs filled its maws. Tiny tongues wagged from the smaller mouths, but the main mouth's tongue was huge; it expanded and contracted, a huge barb shone at the tip.

**The second it that its predominant features don't coincide with any nightmares from our group. There is no reason for anyone to lie, so where could this monstrosity have come from?**

Dib pulled his gun from his belt. The thing looked at him. For a monument, its head whipped back and forth with blurring speed, as if caught in a fast-motion muscle spasm.

**Spikes and gun****s****? How did that combination come about? I cannot think of any meaning, literal or figurative, these things have.**

Dib levelled his weapon at the monster, just in time to see the tongue compress inside the thing's mouth.

**I feel bad for the poor bastard whose mind that thing came from; whatever they went through, it couldn't have been pretty.**

**But I pray for his death,****the sooner the better**** I don't know how much longer we can hold out against that nightmare...**

The tongue shot out before Dib could react. It glanced his side, the heavy barb cutting his abdomen.

While it was very shallow, it hurt like hell.

The tongue retracted into the nightmare-maggot's mouth as quickly as it had left. Gritting his teeth, Dib pointed his gun at the creature.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

Three rounds of solid lead slammed into the face of the monster, blowing off large black chunks of flesh.

The thing wobbled, but didn't fall. Raising what little of its head remained, it shrieked at Dib; the laughing cry twisted and harsh.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Click! Click!

Dib emptied the clip into the wounded monster. Thirteen shots, how appropriate.

What remained of the nightmare thing hit the ground with a wet thud. Huge pieces of the thing had been blown clean off; they now scattered the black spot behind it.

Dib breathed heavily as he loaded his second and last magazine into the gun. The twisting/tearing sound again reverberated through the auditorium, only much louder this time. Dib looked around.

The walls were now completely black; lumps struggled and writhed to free themselves from the darkness.

Dib backed away. One shrieking laugh was quickly joined by more, and Dib ran to the doors.

Locked. Of course.

The stage was his only hope. Dib ran full steam down the aisle, occasionally jumping over seats to avoid the sharp tongues lashing out at him.

He let out a grunt as he hit the edge of the stage; recovering quickly and scrambling up the short ledge. The left side of the stage was closer, so Dib headed for it.

A door, mercifully unlocked, lead him into a cavernous room. Seeing a heavy cabinet, he pushed it in front of the door, blocking it and preventing the nightmare maggots from chasing him. Dib sunk down to a sitting position against the cabinet and closed his eyes.

"What's wrong? Taking a nap?" A cold voice called from the darkness.

It took a moment for Dib to recognize the voice. He didn't believe it.

"Zim? But- but- but y-you-"

"Died?" The alien finished, pulling his mutilated body out from the shadow___s._


	5. II, ii: 'Round and 'Round Forever

A/N: Few things:

-1) My author's note are in normal type because the formatting is BEING A TOTAL BASTARD and making my writing seem sloppy.

0) I changed mah name! 'unhappycamper' is really sort of depressing, so I changed it to my DevART name, 'thefiftheye'

1) Changed the rating to 'M' at the suggestion of **Teh Red Mage**. This story's pretty borderline in my mind, so there's no harm in being safe.

2) Wrote in **Oryps****, Queen Lola, **and **Nikooru-chan**. Hope you don't hate me too much for it:3

What else? Oh! "Local Badness" and the "Parasol Corporation"are parodies of Resident Evil. Just for kicks.

Thanks to **Teh**** Red Mage, ****cutwithoutmercy**, **Oryps****, Queen Lola, **and **Nikooru-****chan** for the reviews! And extra thanks to **Teh**** Red Mage, ****Oryps** and **Nikooru-****chan** for your ending votes!

**Teh**** Red Mage:** I forgot about that mistake, thanks for reminding me! It's fourteen percent, the symbol didn't turn up. I'll fix it ASAP.

**cutwithoutmercy** and a cookie goes to cutwithoutmercy! You hit it right on the head: Dib's monsters are blind because he believes people are blind to the paranormal truth.

**Queen Lola:** Sorry for not answering you in the Intermission. As for the shining reference... Well, to be honest I'm not sure. I write very late at night (3:00am-6:00am usually); I may have added a reference and forgotten about it! But I hope I did, The Shinning was really good...

PS: CRAP! THE FORMATING'S BEING MORE OF AN ASS THAN EVER! Ok, there are some spots that have the chevron symbol (it's not even showing up here, WTF?) in them. They represent a space used for dramatic effect. Thanks for bearing with it.

* * *

>>

* * *

_________Act II, Scene ii: 'Round and 'Round Forever_

Tubing everywhere. Thick, deep purple tubing connecting everything.

Zim's base. Dib had finally penetrated deep into the lion's den; months of preparation had paid off. He was totally lost, but that didn't matter. This was his_______moment_. He'd get the evidence he needed to finally prove Zim was an alien.

If only his **useless** equipment worked.

He had prepared his entry so carefully, so intricately, that he had completely forgotten to check his equipment. Half hadn't worked at all, and the other half was being difficult. The truth was, he wasn't prepared. He only hoped he wasn't going to be hung up by it.

Dib moved deeper into the secret base, hiding from cameras and sliding under laser beam detectors.

When he reached a quiet hallway, he pulled two black metal cylinders from his backpack. Giving them a flick, they unfurled into two video screens. This was Dib's last resort; his recording equipment had been crushed when he fell down a long elevator shaft because his hacking device had spazzed out on him.

The two screens burst into silent static for a moment before two silhouetted figures appeared. Agent Darkbooty had long since abandoned him; too many false alarms. These new agents had stuck with him after that, despite the fact that he still had yet to provide any real evidence of aliens.

"For the love of Bigfoot, don't call on such short notice agent Mothman." The leftmost screen scolded, "Do you know how much of a hassle it is to get my silhouette just right?"

The other screen let out a massive yawn.

"I'm sorry agent Queen Lola, but you gotta see this!" Agent 'Queen Lola' sat back, arms crossed; definitely not impressed. She looked young, maybe around Dib's age, and had a massive set of headphones on her head all the time. Dib wouldn't have been surprised if they'd been surgically attached.

"Tubing, how nice. Looks like my basement." The tired sounding agent said. That screen was much darker, not much physical detail of the speaker could be discerned. Dib's screen was probably damaged, but he was just glad it worked.

"Agent Oryps, this is no ordinary basement; this is an **alien** basement!" Agent 'Oryps' just stared tiredly at Dib. It was almost the end of Oryps' shift, and sleep was the only thing on the agent's mind.

Dib picked up on neither Queen Lola's frustration nor Oryps' exhaustion. He was far too excited at his success at infiltration.

He moved farther down into the Irken base, the two screens floating quietly behind him. While Dib kept moving, the screens approached each other.

"Hey, L" The tired agent whispered to his associate. "You think he's really got something this time?"

"Naw, look at all this stuff" the screen swivelled slightly, gesturing to the Irken equipment. "I could make more realistic stuff standing on my head. He's finally lost it, I think."

"I second that." Zooming up, Agent Oryps screen swung around in from of Dib. "Mothman," the agent started slowly, "I think it's time that you gave this up"

"Bluh?" Dib inquired, the statement taking him by surprise.

The other screen swooped up beside Oryps'. "This stuff's obviously fake. I saw scenery like it in the movie 'Local Badness;' inside the Parasol Corporation's labs. Awful movie, but still. You've finally lost it, dude." Queen Lola shook her head in sadness. It sucked when one of the Eyeball's agents finally tipped over the edge; even though it was a pretty regular occurrence.

"What are you _talking about_?" Dib snapped, eyes growing wide, "This is real alien technology! Real! Right here! Where I'm standing! Real! Here! Now!"

Oryps let out a sigh. "Calm down Mothman; you're a part of the Swollen Eyeball, you know that we have some of the best therapists out there-"

"NO!" Dib screamed, "I'M NOT CRAZY! THIS IS REAL! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT? YOU'RE SO... SO **BLIND!**"

There was a silence after Dib's outburst; cut short by the high-pitched cry of a tiny robot.

"FLYYYYYYYING TAAAAACCOOOOOS!"

Like a silver bolt of lightning, GIR flew at agent Oryps' screen from behind. Slamming into it, the small robot took a bite.

"What's going on?" Demanded Queen Lola as the semi-chewed remains of a hover-screen hit the floor.

"Squeak!"

Lola whipped around just in time to be hit by Minimoose, breaking the screen and sending it crashing to the ground beside its bite-marked companion.

Dib sprung back in alarm, and fell down an exposed chute. He slid for a long way before coming to a painful halt. He sat up, a quick look over confirmed that there was no permanent damage, but he was bruised quite badly.

It was hot. Too hot. Dib gazed around, eyes coming to rest on a brightly glowing contraption in the middle of the room. Dib had no idea what it was; and closer inspection didn't help either.

* * *

GIR skipped into Zim's research lab as his master was tinkering with the happiness probe. 

"Lookit what I found!" GIR squealed happily.

"Not_ now_ GIR, I'm busy." Zim twisted a knob, and the test subject started to jibber about fuzzy bunnies.

"It's a flying taco!"

"Taco's don't fly." Another twist, and the subject screamed about monsters eating his toenails.

"But it tastes all metal-y!"

"That's nasty, GIR." Twist; the subject screamed louder about a gun made of meat. Cursing softly, Zim loosened the knob.

"Squeak." Clarified Minimoose, floating thought he door.

"WHAT?" Zim spun around, facing the moose. "Dib's inside the base, and fell down into the power core chamber? Curses!" Zim shook his fists in the air, "Why didn't you say so earlier? We have to stop him, come on!"

* * *

Dib had given up on the thing in the center of the room. He had started to scavenge around for some hard evidence that he could show to the Eyeball. He was scrounging through a pile of trash when a nearby door burst open. 

Dib spun, and came face to face with an angry Zim.

"This is the last time!" The alien cried dramatically, "The last time you interfere with my plans! Prepare for your death, human!"

Dib never registered what happened next. One moment he was standing facing Zim, the next he was standing over his dying body.

The huge thing in the middle of the room had fallen over, crushing the lower half of the alien's body; what remained of the upper torso was cut to ribbons, some of the cuts still had chunks of shrapnel in them. Both GIR and Minimoose were in pieces, strewn across the room.

A cough splattered Dib's face with a thin coat of purple blood. Zim looked up at him.

"It's over, Zim." The hardness of his own voice shocked Dib.

"No..." Zim croaked, "No... It's not. Computer! Protocol... 'D'"

"AFIRMATIVE." The mechanical voice of the base drawled over the speakers. The sound of a phone ringing, which was quickly answered.

"911 emergency services, how are you dying today?" A muffled laugh came over the phone line, but was quickly shushed.

"Help!" A woman's voice, the voice of Zim's robot mother. "A crazed kid broke into my home and killed my son! He's trying to burn the house down! He's got a gu- **AAAIIIIIEEEE!!!!**"

"Ma'am? MA'AM!! Police are on the way, are you alright? Hello???" The sound cut out, but no more needed to be heard.

Dib looked at Zim with shock and fear. "You didn't..."

"...It's never over..." Rasped Zim as his struggling became weaker.

"... Full...Circle..." he whispered in delirium, the red glow behind his eyes fading slowly.

And Dib ran. He ran for his freedom. He ran for his reputation. He ran for his life.

* * *

>

* * *

The hideous form of Zim pulled itself out of the shadows. Flesh torn and turning a dark green with rot. His lower body was a shattered mass of tissue, small strips of flesh waving lazily back and forth. 

He was supported by his four massive spider legs, which now bore a distinct likeness to their namesake; the metal was gone, replaced with dark brown chitin, hair poking out seemingly at random.

Zim's movements were jerky and mechanical, with the occasional super-fast-motion twitch, same as the nightmare maggots.

Dib stumbled over something as he tried to back away. Zim's tongue lashed where he had been milliseconds ago, flashing past Dib's face and lodging in the wall. That was enough to convince Dib he had to leave. Fast.

Getting to his feet, Dib spotted a ladder on the far wall. It was far enough away from Zim to give Dib a good chance of getting away from this encounter will all his vital organs intact. He sprinted towards it, narrowly dodging another tongue-lashing by Zim.

For once in his life, Dib was happy that humanity had evolved from primates. He hit the ladder hard, scaling it like a monkey and avoiding two more shots from Zim. Luckily, the ladder was short, and Dib reached the top as Zim became bored with shooting his tongue and began to climb the wall.

The moment Dib's feet came into contact with the floor he was running full-tilt, not caring which direction as long as it was away from Zim.

The clicking of Zim's spider legs against the metal floor of the nightmare school was getting closer. Dib put on an extra burst of speed, turning a corner and coming to a staircase.

There was rubble blocking the stairs leading down, but the stairs leading up were clear. A sign reading 'Roof' pointed towards the clear stairway. Dib didn't have time to turn around and take another route; he sped up the stairs, his exhausted breathing coming in gasps.

He reached the top of the stairs, Zim hot in pursuit. Dib burst through the iron door, and onto the roof.

It was pitch black; no light shone from anywhere. Dib turned his flashlight on, it's beam of light just strong enough to outline the edges of his environment. The roof was square, no fencing around the edges. There didn't seem to be any fire exits either.

Dib was trapped. He looked around frantically, desperate for anything he could use to get off the room and away from Zim.

Words, on the door he had come through.

**Have Faith**

Dib didn't have time to try and figure out what that meant before the entire door was thrown from its frame; Zim's spider legs latched on the edges of new hole, pulling the alien out into the night.

Dib's mind raced; there was no way out. He pulled out his pistol. _When in doubt, use violence_ he thought to himself.

Dib fired at Zim, his Stinger piston jumping in his hands.

Zim's two upper spider legs moved, lightning fast, in front of the Irken. The hard chitin plates didn't even chip as the bullets slammed into them. Dib stopped shooting, he was just wasting bullets.

Zim's tongue shot out, whipping Dib's arm and leaving a painful gash. Zim flashed a zipper-toothed grin.

"Nowhere to run, Dib monkey. Its payback time, and I'm going to have some _fun_"

Dib closed his eyes, there was really only one thing he could do. He ran to the edge of the roof.

And jumped.

>

>

>

THUMP!

* * *

Nikooru moaned softly face-down on the ground; she had no idea what hit her, but it was _heavy_. She didn't have time for this; she'd been in the nightmare world for too long, and the twisted inhabitants were getting savvy to her existence. 

Mustering a great burst of strength, Nikooru heaved whatever had landed on her off her back and stood up. She looked over to the mass of black that had knocked her to the ground.

"Aww, _gross_!" It was a dead body; it was wrapped in a black trench coat, with a weird neutral-face shirt underneath.

Then the corpse groaned.

Then it moved.

Nikooru was in no mood to stick around and fight with a zombie, so she exercised the better part of valour and ran.

* * *

Dib's bones hurt. Thankfully, he'd landed on something soft, or he'd be dead right now. He picked himself up off the ground; whatever he'd landed on was gone. 

He was still trying to get his balance when a long, purple tongue burst through his back and into his heart.

Dib was dead before he hit the ground.

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

Turn, turn, turn the valve,

>

>

>

>

>

Spin the top, twirl the chain,

>

>

>

>

Line of life, break of death,

>

>

>

Come around, come around,

>

>

Full Circle.

* * *

Dib's eyes flew open. 


	6. III, i: When Plot Attacks

A/N: Short chapter, no action, just bits of horribly boring plot. Sorry. Don't kill meh!

Next chapter's almost all action, the introduction of a new creature, a fight with Zim, and also the last full chappy before the ending. I promise it'll be the best one yet.

**Important:** I need votes for what ending you 'gents want. I've only gotten three, and each is for a different ending (thanks to those who did vote, though!). SO! To everyone: please vote for your ending of choice: **Good** (Into the Morning Air) **Bad** (Men in White) **Bad+** (Under the Blue)

Uhm... I feeling really lazy right now, so I'm not gonna respond to individual reviews. I know you guys are too nice to deserve that, but lethargy wins out right now. I will however thank you:

Thanks to **Oryps****, Queen Lola, ****MadeUpFigment, **and **Nikooru-chan **for the reviews! j00 roxorz mah soxorz.

PS: turbo props to anyone who gets what Rius's full name means without a translator.

* * *

_Act III, Scene i: When Plot Attacks._

Dib sat up groggily; wherever he was, it was very dark. He head swam, and he wondered how long he'd been out. The last thing he remembered was...

"Holy crap, I'm dead!" He cried into the darkness.

"I guess you could say that."

Dib spun, trying to find the source of the voice. It was too dark to see anything. "Where are you? Who are you? Where am I? What happened?" Dib threw all his questions at the mysterious voice.

There was a pause, then the room was flooded with light; Dib covered his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Hehe, sorry. Forgot to turn the light on." The voice spoke with a light accent; Dib couldn't place it, but it sounded almost Italian. Footsteps came towards Dib from his left. Instinctively Dib's hand moved to his iron pipe; which was no longer there. In fact, Dib realized that the belt the pipe was in was also gone. As was his shirt and pants. Thankfully, it seemed his underpants had remained in their original spot.

"Clothing to your right." The voice said.

Dib's eyes were now adjusted to the light, and he saw the pile of clothing. "Uhhhm, where are _my_ clothes." Dib asked, finally looking towards the voice; what little help that did. The person was a silhouette, the light behind them much more powerful than the light in the room he was in.

"Well, frankly, _your_ clothes suck. No metal plates, no Kevlar, not even sewn very well. There's also the little matter of the hole in 'em too."

_Hole_? ... _HOLE!_ Dib's mind jumped. He looked at his chest.

There was a hole there. Clean through his heart. He poked it; it hurt like hell.

"Yeah... I'm just going to let you change 'n stuff. When you're done come over here, then you can barrage me with questions."

The silhouette left, leaving Dib to poke at his wound a few more times. Finally getting bored, he began to put the provided clothing on. It was much heavier than his original outfit. They had steel mesh woven into them; Dib discovered. He smiled, this was more like it! These clothes were more akin to armour, he was pretty sure they could withstand a nasty bite from a maggot, and lessen the blow from Zim's tongue.

He suited up. Black pants, and steel-toed boots. A grey trench coat rested atop a shirt similar to his original; the only difference was the neutral face logo had been replaced with a crazed version. It was exactly like the one he had found on the school locker, a huge toothy grin, and one eye larger than the other.

None of his equipment was there, but he assumed his 'host' had put it somewhere else. He checked the pockets, and found a crumpled piece of paper.

**Notes of James Kilroy, **

**One question has plagued me for a while now: What exactly **_**is**_** Silent Hill? I think I've finally figured it out.**

**It is the in-between; the area between areas. Allow me to explain:**

**We, normally, live in the 'material' universe. This is where physical things have mass and space. Easy enough to understand, as it's what we're used to. **

**But, there is also an 'immaterial' universe that is overlaid on our own. It is the counter-balance. There, thought has mass and space, while physical things do not. In essence, your thoughts and feelings are real, while the chair you're sitting on is not. **

**Silent Hill is ****a**** place where the i****mmaterial and material universe intersects**** at a dangerous level. Thought becomes reality, and reality becomes thought; while both remain the sam****e. ****Confusing, to say the least.**

**It's this intersection that gives this place so much power. It draws on the raw force of the physical realm, and also the flexibility and variability of the immaterial realm. **

**But, there is a problem. Because the immaterial and material occupy the same space, balance is lost. Without balance, the entire system falls apart, and descends into something ****a book in the abandoned church ****called**** 'nowhere.' ****I did not find any additional information explaining th****e**** 'nowhere' phenomenon**

**To prevent unbalance, Silent Hill gives its power to someone who it thinks can keep everything in cheque. ****A living god, if you will. **

**The bad news is that **_**we**_** are causing an imbalance. Our life is tipping the scales to one side, so there needs to be death to counteract it. That is where the creatures come in.**** They are our immaterial counterpart – our thoughts made manifest. Because we are disturbed, our creatures are reflections of our twisted minds. **

**Something is wrong, though. The frequency of nightmare shifts is increasing, and the creatures are attacking more frequently. We are safe under our spells, but ****every time**** someone ventures out to get food, they are assaulted by an army of creatures. And not just creatures from that particular person's psyche; every possible variant of creature appears. **

**Has the god of this place gotten bored of us; sending so many creatures to simply end our lives out of disinterest? ****Have we started to cause a significant unbalance? ****Or have we stumbled onto something that we shouldn't have?**

Dib finished reading and headed out of the room.

* * *

His host was waiting in a large and comfortable looking room. Leather sofas encircled a coffee table, which had a streaming cup of hot chocolate on it waiting for Dib. 

Dib finally got a good look at the mystery person. He was lounging happily, sipping his own cup of coco.

He was tall and stocky, probably fifteen or sixteen year old. His bare feet were propped up on the table, very loose tan pants pooling around his ankles. He wore a heavy black t-shirt with a red vest overtop.

Dib did a small double-take when he looked at the man's hands. They were completely metal. Not covered in metal, but rather the skin had been replaced by bright silver. Tendrils of steel worked their way up the wrist and almost to the elbow. His hair was the same; each strand seemed to be a wire of iron.

He noticed Dib, and with a huge, toothy grin gestured to a couch. Dib complied, and tentatively sat down.

"Whoareyou?WhereamI?HowamIalive?Whyareyoumetal?What'sgoi-"

Dib fell silent when the man poked him in the forehead with his toe.

"One question at a time, please."

"Where am I?"

"My own little corner of chaos."

"...Can you be more specific?

"No. Ask something else."

"Ok... Who are you?"

The metallic boy took a sip of his drink.

"The question is, 'who are you?"

"I'm Dib."

"But are you _sure_?"

"Yes. I'm Dib."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"_Really_ really?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, ok." He took another sip, "I'm Ferrarius Deus. Most people just call me 'Rius.'"

"Interesting name."

"Thank you." Rius said with another huge grin, "It's Latin!"

"Why do you have metal hands?"

"Staying in Silent Hill for a while does that."

"It turns you into metal?"

"No."

"But you just said-"

"Is it what I said, or what you wanted to hear?"

"Gah!"

The conversation continued, Dib asked many questions, and Rius gave evasive and unsatisfying answers. Exasperated, Dib asked the one question that had been bugging him for a while.

"How am I alive?"

Rius grinned. This was the question he'd wanted Dib to ask. He finished his hot chocolate and set the mug down on the table.

"In Silent Hill, everything is in a constant cycle. A loop if you will. Nothing here ends, it simply starts again. Because of that, death is..." He searched for the right words, "Less than permanent. With the right tools and know-how, we off-balance the cycle for a moment and restore life. Not a smart thing to do too often, though; tends to cause unpleasantness."

"Ok, but what about the hole?"

"Hole?"

"Hole in my chest where my heart should be."

"Ah, that! Don't worry, you don't need it anymore, anyway."

"How do I not need a-"

Any further inquiry from Dib was cut off by a deep rumbling. Rius looked disappointed.

"Blood. I thought we'd have more time. Let's get down to business then, shall we?" Rius got up and gestured for Dib to follow him. "Listen Dib, I need a favour. Think of it as repayment for resurrecting you."

They turned into a long corridor. There were doors side by side, saturating the walls. Rius continued.

"Well not only that, but truth be told helping me's the only way out of this town. There's no way you can get over the boundary without help. I mean, you've seen how the world just falls away at the edges –"

"The world falls away at the edges?"

Rius stopped and turned to Dib, a mixture of confusion and disbelief playing on his face.

"You- You **did** try to leave Silent Hill, right? Once you figured out the whole 'things are trying to kill me' thing, right?"

"Well, I wanted to collect evidence of the paranormal. So I sort of delved deeper into the town."

"You didn't run away?"

"No."

"...Not even a little?"

"Nope."

Rius looked at Dib for a moment longer before shaking his head and moving on. _And I thought I was crazy_ he thought to himself. _But, that kind of __attitude is exactly what I need._

They came to an abrupt halt in from of a door. The only thing that separated it from the multitudes of other doors was the crazed smiley face symbol, carved into the wooden frame.

"Ok, I gotta ask, what's up with that smiley face. It's the third time I've seen it."

Rius flashed a grin. "It's the symbol for havoc. At least, _my_ symbol for havoc." He began to wave his arms in the air dramatically, "If you see this symbol, it means good things. Good thing that have a tendency to cause great bodily harm to those they're used against. Or things that explode. Or things that make lots of noise. Or things-"

"I got it" Dib said, trying to stop Rius' rant before he was smacked by a flailing arm.

Rius was right. The crazed smiley did indicate good things. The room Dib had been lead to was an armoury; wall to wall weaponry. Unfortunately, most of it was out of ammunition. Hell, _all_ of it was out of ammo. Dib had been given his pistol back, two shots left, and his iron pipe. Also, Rius had insisted he take a large hunting knife to be used 'just in case.'

"I took the liberty of gazing at some of you footage," Rius drawled, turning to Dib "and while it's a bit... lacking, all in all it's pretty good."

"Lacking?"

"Well yeah, there are huge gaps between shots, and I noticed there wasn't anything from the nightmare-world."

Dib mentally smacked himself for forgetting to film the twisted version of the school. But then again, it was sort of understandable, considering he was panicking pretty hard.

"Anyway," Rius continued, "that's why we have _this_!" He held out a military-style helmet for Dib; a tiny glass lens poking out from the side announcing the built-in camera. Dib smiled. But before Dib could even try the helmet on, Rius grabbed his arm and drug him out of the armoury and into the hall of doors once more.

"Hate to be rude," he explained, "But I probably should have told you we're pretty tight for time. Also probably should have skipped the question session you had with me but hey, what can ya do? That in mind, I said I need a favour from you." All the while Rius was talking he was roughly dragging Dib further down the hallway. "I need you to get something for me. You'll know it when you see it, don't worry. From there, just follow the yellow brick road, so to speak. Go where you're instincts tell you _not_ to go, and you'll get there. Don't worry; you're smart, you'll figure it out."

"Wait," Dib yelled, his arm now very sore from being yanked, "What's the rush?"

Rius stopped and positioned Dib in front of a doorway, the paranormal investigator facing the metal-handed curiosity.

"It's going to rain." Rius said simply.

"What does rain have to do wi-" Dib was interrupted by Rius' foot connecting heavily with his chest, sending Dib sprawling through the doorway.

* * *

"Do you mind? You're getting my floor wet, dear." 

Rius sat on his couch, feet propped up on the coffee table; calmly looking at his visitor, someone he knew quite well, in fact.

"Har har asshole." Anastasia replied with her usual irritated tone; sitting down heavily on a couch, propping her feet up as well.

The girl was soaked; but then again, she was always soaked. Dying in Toluca Lake had that effect. Her shoulder-length brown hair was matted to her head; unlike most creepy young girls from horror movies, she had moved it away from her face instead of letting it cover her features. She was not unattractive, but not beautiful either; all in all very average. Her brown eyes glowed a soft white, giving only the faintest hint of the power she wielded.

She wore plain (if very wet) clothing; a long-sleeved button-down shirt, and jeans. A red blotch of blood surrounded the gunshot wound in her chest.

"So, you think the kid can actually do it?"

"I wouldn't have sent him if I didn't think so."

"Just because he bears a similar wound, you think he can get through the barriers?"

"He should be able to. Not to be rude, but you have some easy loopholes in your spells."

"You know I could just kick him out of Silent Hill, right?"

"I know you'd never let go of prey, Ana. And anyway, he has my mark on him. You can't touch him; he's home free."

"Even with rain so close? You know as well as I do that no one can survive my nightmares, no matter what petty little spell he has on him."

"He'll do it long before it rains. And if he doesn't," Rius shrugged, "well, then you'll get him."

"Don't think I'll take this lying down."

"I never expected you too"

"He **will **die. Nothing you do can stop me."

"If I thought that, then I'd never have tried in the first place."

"I hate you, you know."

"Hate you too, love."


	7. III, ii: People Don't Kill People

(a/n): And so, we come to the end. Well, not really; but we're close! This is the last 'real' chapter; the next piece will be the conclusion. That in mind, I'd like to say that **voting is still open, up until I submit the final scene.** So, if you haven't cast a vote, please do! **Good, Bad, **and** Bad+** Dib's fate is in your hands!

I'd like to thank **MaduUpFigment**** Nikooru****-Chan, ****Oryps** and **Teh**** Red Mage** for voting already.

Oh, due to the nature of the final scene, I'm not gonna post an A/N there, so I'll take this time to thank everyone who reviewed so far **Nikooru****-Chan** (my first review! Thanx you!), **Queen Lola, ****MadeUpFigment**** Oryps**** Psychonerd**** 5, Lord Lager, ****Teh**** Red Mage, ****cutwithoutmercy****, Squiggles.Candi**. You guys rock. Plain and simple. Those of us about to die, salute you!

**MadeUpFigment**: All the characters here are the product of my twisted, bizarre brain (other than the Zim ones, and the references I made to previous SH games in the first chapter, and (of course) people I've written in). And, 'Bad+' means worse-than-bad. ...And don't think that just because the ending's 'good,' it'll be predictable ;)

**Nikooru****-Chan:** Don't worry; I didn't explain the rain... UNTILL NOW : D

And, as always, CURSE YOU FORMATTING! All mistakes are its fault. Not mine. Nope. //_shifty eyes_//

* * *

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* * *

_Act III, Scene ii: People don't kill people, Guns kill people._

Dib pulled himself up from the damp wood of the floor. Rubbing his sore back, he turned around to give Rius a piece of his mind. He flung open the door; only to be faced with an empty room.

No hallway of doors; and no metal-handed jerk.

Dib had given up on trying to make sense of anything in this place, so he didn't even bother trying to figure out how he'd gotten to where he was. Speaking of which, where _was_ he?

Dib looked around. The room he was in was made of decrepit wood, rotted and wet. Various sailing and canoeing paraphernalia was scattered about.

"A boathouse, eh?" Dib asked the nearest oar. It gave no response, and Dib was infinitely grateful. A quick equipment check, turned on the helmet-cam, and commando-Dib was all set to go find... something.

He sighed, this was getting silly. First he came here for paranormal evidence, and then he fought for his life. Those two were understandable. He could take those. But now he was doing a favour for someone who apparently resurrected him from the dead, to do **something**. Now Dib was feeling that everything had gotten convoluted. _This is kinda like a poorly written fanfic_ Dib thought sadly, getting a firm grip on his iron pipe and moving in a random direction.

The boat house was unremarkable, nothing really interesting or spooky. Dib didn't know whether to be disappointed or thankful. His mind started to wander to what he'd do once he was out of Silent Hill. Hot meal was the first thing, then definitely showing the videos to... someone. He'd given up on the Eyeball, and the FBI'd never believe him. Who'd that leave?

Dib absently opened a door into another room, still trying to think of someone who he could present his evidence too.

He had no idea what hit him, but whatever it was did it with enough force to knock him back five feet. Dib recovered quickly, rolling to his feet and bringing the pipe up in front of him.

The thing on the ground in the room in front of him writhed. It was a mound of flesh, bound completely in a straitjacket. A mouth lined with long teeth snapped from the hole where a head should be. One of its straps came free, and shot it towards Dib.

It weaved in the air before connecting with his leg. Before Dib could respond it wrapped itself around his ankle and pulled. Dib slid across the floor; panicked, and hoping to buy some time, he threw the pipe into the monster's mouth.

With a sickening sound, the creature snapped the iron pipe in half, spitting the twisted metal out onto the floor.

Dib's mind guided his hand to the next weapon in line: his pistol. His feet barely inches from the snapping jaws, Dib pulled the trigger.

WHAM WHAM click

The two shots went directly down the thing's throat; it gargled on its own blood for a moment before collapsing on the ground. Dib waited patiently for it to dissolve into nothing; the strap binding his leg melting with the rest of the creature. He got up, brushed himself off, and put his now-empty gun into a pocket. His only remaining weapon was the hunting knife, which inspected for a second before continuing his blind search.

The room with the straitjacket monster led to another few rooms, the first two useless in the extreme, but the third bore fruit. Horrible, rotting, man-eating fruit, but it was something.

It was a large canoe storage room; old, decrepit vessels sat unused and neglected on their racks. The roof had a leak, the soft plink of water drops into a large puddle on the floor was the only sound to be heard. A door on the opposite side of the room was the only real point of interest to Dib.

Giving the room a quick scan for anything useful –there was nothing he could see– he walked through the puddle and towards the door. He didn't make it over the water.

With a mighty 'thud' Dib hit the floor with all the grace and finesse of an elephant skydiving. Groaning softly, he rubbed his head and tried to get up. He couldn't, his right foot was caught on something. Irked that he'd been so clumsy as to get snagged on this rouge something, Dib looked over his shoulder to identify the cause of his incapacitation.

It was a hand, flesh bloated and half-dissolved, broken slivers of bone jutting out at unnatural angles; rising from the water. Suppressing the urge to scream, Dib kicked furiously at the hand with his free foot, forcing it to let go.

A bulge appeared in the puddle, behind the hand. Slowly rising, it emerged from the water; eyes glaring from deep sockets. Another hand emerged from the puddle, faster this time, and slammed down onto the rotten wood of the boathouse floor. The first hand followed suit, and the creature pulled itself up; the water on the floor flowing into the thing.

The thing was huge. Where all the monsters Dib had encountered before now were waist height (excluding Zim, but his extra height was due to his spider legs), this thing was easily eight feet tall. It had to hunch over just to stand in the room.

The monstrosity gave Dib the impression it had been created by a novice necromancer; the important bits were there, but they were crudely placed and barely attached.

It was grey, the same sickly grey of rot that everything here had, but semi-translucent. Torn muscles and broken bones moved and shifted visibly behind the skin. It looked human, two arms, two legs, a head, no extra appendages; but its arms were extremely long, reaching down to its feet. Spikes of bone jutted out from all angles across its entire form, posing a deadly threat to whoever got near it.

With a wet gurgle, it began a slow shamble towards Dib, head scrapping on the ceiling, feet dragging on the floor.

There was no way Dib was going to get close enough to that thing to stab it with his now seemingly-small-and-useless knife. He was on the opposite end of the room he had entered on, so, his options for fighting exhausted, he naturally turned to his second instinct. Running for his life, he slammed into the door leading to who knows where; it didn't matter to Dib, as long as it was away from the giant monster. He turned the handle.

Now, Dib was starting to see a pattern with the doors of Silent Hill: whenever you need them to be open, they are locked. It happens without fail. And, following that pattern, this door was also locked. Dib rattled furiously at it for a moment, he knew it wouldn't give, but it made him feel better.

The monster was shambling closer to him, and Dib was trapped. Dib's head whipped around frantically, searching for something, _anything_ he could use. Oars and canoes were useless, to flimsy and too large, respectively.

A glint of light caught Dib's eye. Sitting on the seat of a canoe on the other side of the room, behind the puddle-demon, was a single clip of pistol ammo. It was on a lower canoe, unnoticeable from the door Dib had entered.

This was Dib's only shot; he sprung forward, staying close to the ground. The creature moved to intercept him, a massive arm swinging out to block Dib's path. But Dib was too fast for the lumbering beast. Twisting his body in midair, Dib narrowly avoided impaling himself on the jutting bones. Recovering from his dodge with a roll, he leapt to his feet and snatched the ammunition.

The monster's arm swung past where Dib had been moments ago, and slammed into a canoe rack; shattering it and sending splinters out in all directions.

Dib slapped the clip into the pistol; holding it in both hands, he pointed it at the creature's lump of a head and emptied the entire magazine at the thing.

-Pistols tend to be very inaccurate, ineffective weapons. Due to the short barrel, the bullets don't have much time to accelerate, therefore move slower and do less damage; it also means that the bullet can be more easily pushed around by the propellant, reducing the accuracy at medium and long ranges.-

Fortunately for Dib, the monster was both very soft and extremely close. The bullets tore through its rotted skin and blew away bone; each shot reducing the mass of the head. By the end of the clip there was nothing left but a jagged stump of a neck.

The thing wobbled for a moment, before crumpling to the ground. Dib put his empty again pistol into his belt, and waited for the monster to dissolve so he could walk over and check that door again. It was the only way to progress, so there had to be _some_ way through.

Dib waited, but the dead creature remained. It was taking much too long; all the other monsters were gone a few seconds after they died, but this one remained.

Dib's eyes widened as he realized it.

The monsters from before, the laughing-maggots and the straightjacket-thing, were made from his mind. Each represented a fear, and each has similar characteristics. No eyes, large mouths, small, and that whole 'disappearing thing.' The beast lying before him was completely different; it had eyes, the mouth was tiny, and the body was _huge_. The previous monsters had not only frightened him, but disturbed him as well; their presence unnerved Dib and made him panic. This thing, while scary, was only scary on a survival level; nothing about it caused Dib to want to run around screaming in a panicked frenzy.

It was someone _else's _monster.

Dib's scientific instinct kicked in, trying to discern the root of this creature. _It's big. That's easy; it's a natural fear of larger animals (or people, same thing). It looks like it went through a blender... Maybe the person saw an accident where the victims were mutilated, or maybe the person's parent worked in a slaughterhouse?__ It'll have to think about that some more.__ It came from the water. Wait, water? _

Dib's brain clicked, this was the reason the rain was dangerous. If these things could materialize from water, then a rainstorm would create an army of them.

He shook his head, this was no time to focus on the meaning of monsters; it was time to focus on doors, and more specifically, locked ones. Stepping very carefully over the dead water-beast as not to accidentally stab himself on it, Dib checked the door again; still locked.

His eyes roamed over the room, looking once again for something that would help him; a key or crowbar or something. There was a message carved in the door he had come from.

**Stay out of the Water**

"Oooooh, thanks for the warning. _Whatever_ would I do without you?" He told the message sarcastically.

Dib continued his search, until his eyes rested on the lifeless creature. A small smile tugged at his lips as he gazed at a jutting spike of bone. _I think I'll take up that offer on a psychiatrist after this is over,_ Dib thought.

It took a while for Dib to set up his plan. Despite the soft, squishy skin, the bone-spikes were firmly embedded in the water-beast, and hard to pull out. After that, he had to hold them just right so he could hammer them into the door with the hilt of the knife. But, seven spikes and a severely bashed hand later, everything was in place.

The bones were stuck in the door in a tight semi-circle around the lock. Tiny cracks webbed out from each spike. Dib stood back to admire his work for a moment before preparing the final blow.

In a large and overly-showy gesture, Dib spin-kicked the middle of the door. With a loud crunch, the main body came apart from the isolated lock, swinging out quickly and hitting a wall with a cacophonic bang.

The room the door lead to was large, much too large. Dib didn't know how big the boathouse was, but this room seemed unnaturally spacious. The ceiling was two or three times higher than the other ceilings, and the huge floor space gave a cavernous feel.

The entirety of the floor was covered by deep crimson circles and arcane symbols; all radiating out from a pedestal in the center of the room. Dib couldn't see what was on it from where he was, but every fibre in his body told him to run in the opposite direction.

And, like a good paranormal investigator, he completely ignored his feelings and moved forward.

His foot touched the outermost circle, and the room went black, any vestige of light erased. The runes of the floor leaked out a dark red glow, and the unintelligible whispering of many voices came from the darkness.

Dib didn't have any time to react before a tendril of energy sprang from the floor; flashing through the shadows and blowing through his heart.

Or at least, where his heart _would_ be, assuming he still had one.

It ended as quickly as it started; the symbols stopped glowing, and light returned.

"Well, that was rather... anticlimactic." Dib muttered, looking around with his hands on his hips. "Not that I'm complaining" he added hastily, hoping he hadn't jinxed himself. Nothing new happened, and Dib was satisfied. He made his way again towards the center of the room, this time very careful not to step on the lines. Just in case.

The pedestal was made of bones -ribs, to be specific- formed into an ascending spiral. At the zenith, a skeletal hand held a weapon. Dib could feel its power; it was like a firm pressure on his skull.

I was a warped pistol, almost comically large. The grip looked like it was made of ivory, but the rest of the gun was a twisted mix of metal and flesh. The barrel was long and rectangular, threads of sinew and tendons crisscrossing the silver. At the end, near the muzzle and on the left and right surfaces, were tiny faces. Three on each side, they were frozen in open-mouthed expressions of terror. The gun had a cylinder, similar to revolvers, but it was covered in tiny bits of musculature; holding it in place and preventing it from turning. It didn't seem to have any place to load ammunition.

With great care, Dib pulled the weapon from its resting place.

Dib's head began to pound, the room spinning around him. It felt like his brain was turning inside out. But the gun grounded him; it made the pain bearable and kept his conscious.

Dib knew what this feeling meant.

Nightmare Shift.

The bones began to flake away, thin sections floating upwards as if caught in a breeze. With each flake they disappeared a little more until nothing was left.

The flaking spread to the floor; each flake revealing dead grass underneath. It kept spreading, overtaking the walls and destroying them. Dib looked behind, to where he had come from. The flakes had taken away the massive room he'd been in, but left the boathouse relatively intact; black, rotten wooden planked held the decrepit structure up, but just barely.

Dib's eyes focused forward once more, he was standing near the lake; water black and menacing. The flaking continued, consuming even the sky and fog, turning them into darkness. It seemed to calm down for a moment.

Dib felt a peculiar feeling, almost as if he remembered-

* * *

_Running._

_Something had happened, all of a sudden Dad said to run. I knew better than to argue with him; I didn't feel like getting more bruised than I needed to be. So now I'm running. I really wish I wasn't though; wrong shoes. Mind you, I'm not wearing high heels or the like, but still. _

_"Keep up, you little bit-"_

_The rest of Dad's favourite sentence was drowning out by the sound of dogs. And not the friendly kind either. There were sirens as well. _

_I silently cursed myself. This was why we're running – Dad's trying to escape the cops again. And that's why he wanted my with him; they wouldn't shoot if a teenage girl was in the way. Hooray, I'm a meat shield. __Again. __But I didn't dare to stop; Dad could do much worse things to me than cops._

_This shit never happened when Mom was alive. Back then it was... Well, it still sucked, but it was better. Dad didn't sell drugs back then. But then she died. Of an overdose, no less. And now Dad's peddling the stuff that killed her. _

_We were getting close to the lake, and I'm out of breath. I was never fit, and always a little bit... well, meaty. Sirens and flashing lights erupted from the darkness in front of us, and Dad pulled me -hard- towards the docks. I didn't know what he was thinking; the docks were a dead end._

_I offered a quick prayer to the gods. I had gotten into the occult for a couple reasons. First was I had no friends, so I had to occupy my time somehow, and second was that it was an escape. And with my life, I needed all the escaping I could get. I'd found a thick book of the stuff in a local bookstore, and it was fascinating. Spells, curses, and hexes oh my. But__ I knew a prayer wouldn't do anything; the gods didn't work that way. It still felt comforting, though. _

_The dogs were close, and so were the cops. Dad pulled me to the end of a dock and turned around; no where left to run.__ Duh, he'd gone up a dock, where'd he think we'd end up? Spain?__ He roughly put me in front of him, between himself and the advancing police. _

_The faces of most of the fuzz gathered there was shadowed. Almost unnaturally so... Hell, it didn't look like they even __**had**__ faces, but rather voids; like they were just meat puppets pulled by invisible strings. The way they moved reinforced that mental image. It was jerky, inhuman. I started to panic; this was too weird. _

_A huge, fat__ behemoth of a cop waddled out of the darkness of the night. He had a disgusting face, cruel and sadistic, and truly inspiring the image of a pig. __It was tinged with red, as if the simple act of walking had tired him. __He smiled, which only made his feature__s__ all the more ugly. _

_He said something, and Dad responded. I couldn't hear them, something was wrong._

_My head felt light, my limbs heavy. The world seemed to melt and change, the nice buildings along the shore blinking in and out; replaced by rotting slums, then rusted hell-holes, then twisted parodies of architecture. The shadowed police shifted too; uniforms turned to tatters and flesh became torn and pale. The shadows on the faces were replaced by a simple lack of the feature; only twisted lumps of flesh -kinda like a bubble, really- remained where faces used to be. _

_I barely registered that the disgusting cop had pulled his gun, and was pointing it at me. _

_The pressure of Dad's hand on my shoulders left as he dodged to the left. I wondered why he'd do that._

_There was a flash, and a fifty-calibre slug tore through the left side of my chest, ripping though my heart and out the other side. _

_I, Anastasia __M. __Caine, __stopped living__ as I __hit the water._

* * *

Dib snapped from his vision/memory in time to avoid the blindingly fast purple projectile hurtling at his face. 

Zim retracted his tongue and flashed his malicious zipper-toothed smile at Dib. Dib recovered quickly, bringing the weird weapon up and pointing it at Zim. In all honesty, Dib didn't know if the thing would work at all; but there wasn't a way in hell that he'd use a tiny knife against his arch-nemesis.

He pulled the trigger. There was no 'wham,' 'bang,' 'crack,' or 'bam.'

The gun made a noise as if a hundred voices screamed out in agony.

The flash from the muzzle was diffused by smaller flashed from each of the open mouths on the side of the weapon. It kicked back with the force of the shot.

Dib missed Zim's body, but hit him squarely in his upper left spider leg. The bullet blew it apart, unleashing a spray of purple blood. Zim yelped, but more out of surprise than fear or pain. He used his remaining legs to scamper away from Dib, regrouping at the mouth of a dock.

Zim shot out his tongue like a whip, trying to knock the pistol from Dib's hands. Dib angled his shoulder forward, taking the full brunt of the strike but protecting his hands. Dib raised the weapon. It pointed at the rapidly retracting tongue, as if aiming itself. Dib's finger seemed to be pulled by the trigger, and the gun fired.

A good six feet of purple tongue fell to the ground with a soft slap.

Zim cried out, this time very much in pain. Dib advanced quickly, bringing the gun up again. With a hiss, he retreated further down to the end of the dock. Dib fired at the moving alien, but missed; the shot screaming off into the night.

Zim spun, facing Dib. Blood trickled from his mouth, the result of losing his tongue. His upper leg was destroyed before the second joint, the stump twitching slightly. An expression of pure, unabridged hatred flashed across his face when Dib fired.

A clean shot, through Zim's chest; the alien's eyes dimmed as he fell back and hit the water.

There was no sound, only a deep rumbling. The waves parted, separating slowly; two mounds of water formed on each side.

Dib walked to the edge of the dock where his final, grisly business with Zim had ended. A staircase of flesh descended down into the darkness of the lake. His mind screamed for him to go back, but deep down, he knew he had to delve deeper into the darkness. It was probably his only way out, anyway. Or at least, that's what Metal-Hands had said. Dib didn't really trust him, but he didn't have a better plan. Dib took the first step down.

* * *

"That took _forever_!" Dib spat, putting his hands on his knees and panting at the base of the stairs. He was out of breath, that descent had taken almost twenty minutes, and steps of meat were_ very_ slippery. 

The end had come at a sunken ship. It looked old, like a steam ship. Dib rested on its side before venturing into the corroded hulk. A bizarre pulsing noise met his ears, and he tightened his grip on the wonder-gun.

The interior of the ship looked like the exterior, rust and black algae everywhere, covering and consuming everything. There was a path through the middle of the ship that was clear, and Dib followed it. The farther he went, the louder the sound became.

The noise was deafening, and Dib knew he had come to its source. He faced a steel door, untouched by blight; a sickly light glowed from the edges. Dib pushed, and it opened.

Suspended by tubes and veins was a beating heart.

It pumped rhythmically, pushing dark blood through the organic pipes and out into... Somewhere. _Silent Hill itself, probably_ Dib thought. This was it; the core of the nightmare. Everything was fuelled by this one central nucleus, he could **feel** it. And he knew; he knew that by destroying this thing he could finally escape.

He moved closer to the pulsing organ, and pressed the gun's muzzle up against it. He saw the claw flashing towards him too late.

The gun fired, and the world went white.


	8. IV, i: Up and Out of the Rabbit Hole

_Act IV, Scene i: Up and Out of the Rabbit Hole_

Soft napping was interrupted by sloshing footsteps. Lazily pulling himself off of his favourite couch, Rius rubbed his eyes and greeted his visitor.

"Still alive, eh?"

"Yep. Well... no, technically. But you know what I mean."

Rius let out a small laugh, interlocking his hands behind his head and propping his feet on the coffee table. He wiggled, getting comfortable.

"So the kid lost?"

"He was close, buy yeah, he lost. If it makes you feel better, he managed to knock himself _out_" Anastasia snapped her fingers, and two massive hellhounds pulled themselves from the wall behind her. The brutish things jerked and twitched, trying to break the tendrils of darkness covering them and holding them to the abyss they had come from. Each gave a mighty heave, and came loose; inch-long claws clicking against the white marble floors. Smoke wreathed them, and only long muzzles full of teeth were visible.

Anastasia grinned ear to ear, it had taken much too long to get the metal-handed bastard in a position of weakness, and she'd be damned if she'd let him live for one more minute than necessary. Shuffling that kid from place to place had spent Rius' power. He'd done it as a gambit; if he succeeded then he'd win, killing Anastasia and taking control of Silent Hill. But if he lost... well.

_If he lost__ then __he can't run away anymore_ she thought with glee.

Anastasia gestured for the beasts to attack. One of them lunged, fangs bared. Rius smiled. A sad, unfortunate smile. The sound of flesh on steel, and the beast stopped.

"Really love, did you think you're the only one who can tap into this place?"

A blue metal machine grappled with the hellhound. An iron skeleton, accentuated by steel-rope musculature and tendon-pistons. Its cold green eyes stared mechanically at its opponent, struggling to keep the beast from killing its master. Five more iron skeletons rose from the floor, green eyes flickering to life.

"Nothing can just be simple with you, huh?"

"You know you love it."

* * *

The white at the edges of Dib's vision was starting to recede. He didn't have the faintest clue to where he was, but he was too sore to get off the cold cement to find out. He furrowed his brow; _there was something wrong with that last thought..._

Cement?

He willed his eyelids to move, and slowly they started to respond. He stared out at the surface he was on. It was, indeed, cement. Mustering every ounce of his strength, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

He was on a road, with trees on each side. He squinted his eyes to see if there was anything the road lead to. It was no use, it simply continued on as far as he could see. He ran a hand through his hair.

It took him almost eight seconds before he realized what that gesture meant. Both hands went up, patting and poking his very helmetless cranium. He looked down; he was back in his original clothes. He checked his pockets, no gun, no knife.

He fell back to the ground. He recognized where he was, now. It was the spot where he'd fainted, just after leaving Brahams. He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes, rubbing them as hard as he could, hoping that it would change the scene before him. It didn't.

Dib understood. He was insane; plain and simple. He lay there, on the pavement of the street, for what seemed like forever. All his life work was nothing but broken thoughts in a shattered mind. He allowed himself a small smile; he'd really like that knife right about now.

He scratched an itch on his chest; his hand went much too far in. Sitting up, he scratched again. He was sure of it, there was a distinct indent. He pulled up his shirt.

There was a hole there.

And Dib had never been happier in all his life that he was wounded. He could feel a slight pressure inside the hole, and with great care he stuck two fingers in. They touched something, and he managed to pull it out.

A tiny rectangle, the crazed smiley face stared at Dib from the black plastic. It only took Dib a half-second to realize what he was holding was a digital video memory card.

_It wasn't a dream_.

* * *

It was a long walk back to Brahams. 

Dib wasn't smiling anymore. It had taken some time, but he understood what he had to do. No matter how much he didn't like it.

No one would take him seriously. It was that simple; he was just some crazy kid to them, so they'd just think that his evidence was some prank or attention-grab attempt. He'd managed to alienate everyone who'd have believed him. But** a****ssuming** that anyone would seriously look at his video, what them?

He knew what, every paranormal investigator, security enforcer, explorer, and terror-junkie would make a beeline to Silent Hill. Very few of those people become what they are without some sort of trauma; they'd all flock to the nightmare, and would be consumed by it. Each person making it stronger, extending its reach, and giving it that much more fuel.

Dib couldn't do that. He didn't know how to stop Silent Hill, but he knew that no good would come out of him bringing it into the spotlight.

He sighed; this was one of those no-win situations. He turned his head to the sky, looking for an answer in the early morning clouds. There was none.

He closed his eyes, grip tightening on the video card until it started to bend.

His eyes snapped open, and he loosened his hold; smile creeping onto his face. Maybe there was a way to have at least a _partial_ victory.

* * *

Dib sat at his desk, his feet propped up and leaning back dangerously on his chair. He stroked his fledgling goatee absently, mind wandering as the news blared from a TV mounted to a wall. 

_**"...With ribbons and bows, leaving the cow emotionally scarred for life. In other news, wonder-author Dib Membrane **__**has had**__** the final book in his much acclaimed horror series, '**__**Quiet Hill,**__**'**__** reach the top of the charts.**____**This makes Dib, at nineteen, the youngest author in history to have**__** a total of**__** nine books on the New York**__** Times**__** Best **__**Sellers**__** List. The final chapter, called..."**_

Dib turned off the TV. He didn't need to hear how awesome he was _all_ the time. Four or five hours a day was just fine.

There was a knock on the door. Carol L'Onass, Dib's editor, slipped into the room with her usual grace and pomp. She was in her mid twenties, and by all means a very attractive woman. Her black hair bobbed around her head as walked over to Dib's desk and took a seat.

"What can I do for you?" Dib asked. It was pretty unusual for Carol to meet him for any reason other than business, and there was no business he knew of right now. The tiny hormone-driven voice in the back of Dib's mind was making vulgar thrusting noises, thinking of another kind of 'business' that could be had, but he paid it no heed.

"Dib, how long have we been friends?"

"Five or six years now, I think. Why?"

"Ok, in light how long we've known each other, I have to ask you something."

"Go for it."

She paused. "You write some pretty messed-up stuff. Where the hell does it come from? You don't strike me as being **too **insane."

Dib exhaled, letting out a small 'heh.' He liked his editor, and trusted her. Perhaps it was finally time to share. "Do you really want to hear the story?"

Carol perked up "Yes please, I'd love to."

Dib's hand went to his desk drawer. Opening it, he lifted a hidden panel and pulled out a black rectangle of plastic, the faded symbol just barely visible. Carol looked at it inquisitively, but Dib held up his hand, "Let's just start at the beginning. It was some years ago; I was on a bus, scratching some notes into my journal: _In my restless dreams, I see that town. Silent Hill. I've always wanted to go there, always have but never did..._"

END


	9. Alternate Realities, BAD and WORSE

A/N: Ok, I wanted to submit this earlier, but I had to move, so things got a little messed around; sorry. BAD is actually the first ending I wrote, but I didn't like it, so I scrapped it for the other ending. What? I like Dib, and wanted him to come out on top. The BAD+ Ending I wrote just now, and totally got lazy and produced a crappy cop-out. Sorry, but I got a lot of univ stuff to deal with, and no time.

I didn't edit this, so yes, there are mistakes. Can't bring myself to care, too sleepy. Sorry.

These take place after Rius and Ana's scene. That doesn't change.

Enjoy

PS! Don't watch the Silent Hill movie! It sucks. I forgot to say that earlier, sorry. Play SH2 instead. Or play The Suffering _Prison is Hell_, that's an awesome game too.

* * *

_Alternate Universe: BAD end, Men in White_

The white receded; and the world came back into focus. Dib opened his eyes. He was lying on a small beach, the sand cold and coarse against his skin. Groaning, he shook the last of the fog from his brain and stumbled forwards. It was coming back to him; the monsters, the fights, Zim, everything.

He did a self-check. He was wearing his combat clothes, but they seemed much lighter than they had been. He had his knife, and his old gun, but the twisted pistol he used to kill Zim wasn't there. And, much to Dib's despair, so was his helmet with all the video in it. Dib searched the beach franticly, but found no clue to the mystery of his lost equipment. He heard something, something familiar. Dib, barely thinking rationally now, walked in the sound's direction.

Bright light, and loud noise. Dib looked, there was a pair of intense lights flying towards him; his hands flew to his face, knowing full well that he couldn't dodge in time.

SKRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!

The car's bumper stopped millimetres from Dib's body, the vehicle jerking back from its sudden stop. Its door flew open, and a very irate man stepped into the cool night.

"What the hell, kid? Dammit! Who the hell walks into the street in the middle of the freakin' night? I mean, are you stu-" The man stopped mid-sentence, shock replacing anger as he looked at the boy before him. The boy looked half-dead, hair a mess, clothes ripped up, and a crazed look in his eyes.

Dib blinked, adjusting to the sudden light. Still blinking furiously, he made out the figure on the man in from of him. Dib's expression changed from confusion to overbearing joy.

"You- You're HUMAN!" He shouted, face beaming.

"Uhhh, yeah. Hey, you alright? You look like shi-"

Dib wasn't paying attention to him, he was far too excited. "Another person! YES!" Dib paused, fear crossing his features once more, "Listen, we gotta get out of here, man. There are **Things** out there, monsters! They- They'll tear you up without a thought! We gotta get out, man! We gotta get _out!"_

Dib was clinging to the man's shirt, shaking it furiously to emphasise his point. His left eye twitched.

The man was getting weird vibes from this kid. Freaky vibes. Something was wrong with him, but the man couldn't put his finger on exactly what. "Listen kid, how 'bout we take you down to the police station and get yo-"

Dib jumped back, eyes widening. "The police station? NO! The _things_ are there! The mouths... GOD THE MOUTHS! They'll eat us all! No, we gotta get out!"

Dib was shaking, things weren't going well. The man was stupid... or maybe... _Maybe he's__ not human... Maybe__he's __one of THEM._ Dib's eyes locked with the man's. Yeah, that was it. He was one of them. Dib smiled. _Can't trick me,__ no__ no._

Fast as lightning, Dib pulled his knife and plunged it into the man's chest. The man gave a confused expression as he looked at his wound, and fell backwards. There was a scream from the car. Dib spun, and saw a woman sitting in the front seat desperately poking at a phone. _If he was one, then SHE __was__ one too. They're trying to kill you! Trying to stop you from telling the world about this place, stop her before she stops you_.

Dib stalked forwards, clutching the knife so hard is knuckles went white. The woman slammed the driver-side door shut and locked the doors. Dib tilted his head, weren't they supposed to be trying to attack him? No matter. He brought the hilt of his weapon down onto the windshield, sending tiny cracks spider-webbing out. The woman screamed again.

* * *

It took the police three minutes to get from their station to the place where they received the phone call. They were two minutes to late to save the woman, but the perpetrator was still at the scene. It took three officers to restrain the crazed boy, and two other officers were sent to the hospital for non life-threatening stab wounds.

* * *

"What's the patient's name?" 

"Dib Membrane. Age –" The nurse was drown out by a passing truck, "Institutionalized for... shit, that's horrible!" The head doctor at the Silent Hill Mental Institution raised an eyebrow, putting out his had so the nurse would hand him the file.

**Charges: Three counts of first degree murder****, one count of animal cruelty, one count of arson****, two counts of second degree murder.**

**Police notes: Mr. Membrane, apprehended in Silent Hill (at King Street) after killing John Aldis and his girlfriend Ashley Cooper. At arrest, he was screaming ****that we were all**** monsters****, and that we 'couldn't trick him****'****He is obviously highly delusional. Possibly schizophrenic.**

**Originally wanted for the triple-homicide in his home town; he killed a classmate, his dog, and his parents. The family, the Irkens (hailing from Norway), were shot, apparently by an antique 'Stinger' pistol. The reason for this seems to be that Membrane thought they were aliens. This may be due to Zim's skin condition that rendered him green. Dib proceeded to blow the house up using an unknown device. ****Probably a home-made bomb.**

The doctor put the notes down, sighing. This was the third criminally insane patient he'd gotten that month. The doctor rubbed his temples; _why do all the crazies come to Silent Hill_?

"Well, better go up and see him. Later Stephanie."

He waved goodbye to the nurse and proceeded to the fourth floor, the 'secure' floor. It took him a minute to get to Dib's cell.

The doctor peered through the tiny slit in the heavy door; Dib was sitting in the middle of the padded room rocking back and forth.

"Hello Dib how are you today?"

The boy in the straitjacket turned his head slowly to the doctor.

"They can't beat each other, you know."

"What?"

"They're just gonna keep fighting forever. Don't know why. Don't know why they're fighting, but they are. Forever. They... PULL! Always pulling! Trying to get an upper hand, but they **CAN'T**. Don't you see?"

The doctor sighed again. It was going to one of those days. He turned away, starting to walk towards his office so he could get some other poor bastard to take care of the kid. Before he could get more that two steps, Dib slammed himself against the door. The doctor jumped away in surprise.

"You don't get it! It PULLS at us! It CONSUMES us! DON'T YOU _FEEL_ IT? IT COMES! THE DARKNESS COMES, AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO! IT WANTS US! _**THEY**_WANT US! THEY FEED! THEY FEED ON US! DON'T YOU **SEE?** THE DARKNESS COMES! SILENT HILL HUNGERS! IT CAN'T BE STOPPED! CAN'T YOU SEE? _THE DARKNESS COMES TO FEED!_"

_BAD END_

* * *

_Alternate Universe: BAD+__, In Water_

The flash of white left as quickly as it came, and the world came back into focus. Dib was still in the heart room, fully geared and ready. Something growled.

Dib's mind returned to the present, and he saw what creature that the claw was attached to. It was a huge hellhound, wreathed in smoke and flame. It growled, tearing the gun from Dib's hands. Dib fell back, the beast rearing above him.

Self-preservation overcoming his need to retrieve his weapon, Dib scrambled up and ran from the room; slamming the door behind him, leaning against it in an effort to hold the creature back. There was no response from the monster; it seemed content to stay in the room.

Dib was just starting to settle down and think of a plan when he heard a noise. A rushing sound, like water going down a large cliff...

Dib's eyes went wide. He bolted from the sunken ship, coming out into the lake as it started to re-fill itself. A torrent of water crashed down on Dib, knocking him around like a rag doll. He desperately held his breath, pumping his arms and legs desperately as he tried to swim to the surface.

Something caught his leg. He looked down, the water blurring his vision. He could make out an arm, skeletal. A skull emerged from the muck and looked up at him. More arms burst from the mud, grabbing and pulling Dib down.

He tired to scream, but the water silenced him.

He tried to struggle, but the hands pulled him down.

He tired to breathe, but the lake filling his lungs.

Down, deeper into the bottom of the lake. His body submerged in the soft clay, he reached out with his arms, desperately trying to grasp the fading light above him. His eyes closed as he was pulled under, never waking from the nightmare.

_BAD+ END_


End file.
